UnCaged
by WannabeDragronTamer88
Summary: 3 years after JJ's disappearance, and the Supers are living the life while the Avengers settle peacefully into retirement. Except...there are monsters on the loose, everyone's keeping secrets, and Max Watson's caught in the middle. Add in a new cast of characters, a plot twist (or twelve), a friend back from the grave, and what do you know? We have ourselves a SEQUEL. CAGED SEQUEL
1. Foreshadowing

**UPDATE: For those who are totally lost, I am reposting this story with combined the chapters so they all are closer to the same length. The first three reposted chapters will contain all of the same content as chapters one through five, it's just combined!**

 **So this is titled Chapter One, but is what used to be Chapters one AND two. Chapter four will be all new content, and it's coming soon!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

 _June 2019_

Cassie Lang did not like Draco Malfoy as a person.

He was just…so rude. Really, she couldn't stand him for more than an hour.

The other guys that she'd found, the ones with "Similar experiences"? They were better.

But not by much.

Cassie understood. What they'd all been through? It changed a person, brought out the worst in you.

Seriously though. All of them, the guy who claimed he'd lived in purgatory for a while? The twins who kept saying their grandpa was the GOD of the underworld?

And the wizard?

Nutjobs – all of them.

Of course, Cassie's own father could become the size of an ant at will, and her stepmom? She'd get small too…but she also had wings.

Which, didn't make it any less crazy.

So…Cassie supposed, this was just her life now. Occasionally meeting with four crazies who understood her crazy a little bit more than the general population would, just to drink.

Just to feel slightly less crazy, if only for a few hours a month.

And then SHE showed up, wearing jeans with holes in them, a navy canvas jacket, and with a bright red baseball cap covering long dark hair.

"You guys wanna catch a monster?" She'd asked, eyes bright.

Draco had set his beer on the table and was dragging his coat on in seconds.

The others shrugged and pulled out money to settle their tabs.

SHE had turned a look Cassie's way. "You in, Lang?" She'd asked briskly.

And what else could Cassie do?

She'd nodded dumbly and stood from the table.

The declared deceased JJ Barnes stood there, eyes shadowed and expression dark, and slapped Cassie's back.

"Good Girl," She said dryly.

And Cassie, who never thought she'd see this woman again, followed her out the door.

That's how, Cassie would tell her family later, sheepishly, Cassie became a monster hunter.

* * *

 _January 18_ _th_ _, 2020_

"I haven't seen you in a while, Max. Is everything alright?"

"Me?" Max Watson laughed, leaning back against the blue couch he reclined on. "Of the eight of us, I think I'm the most well-adjusted of us all – and I have to see a therapist."

"Hey." The brunette woman in the chair smiled teasingly. "Maybe you're the most well-adjusted BECAUSE you see a therapist, and a good one, if I do say so myself."

Max shook his head, smiling. "My therapist is a narcissist."

"But a funny narcissist." The woman chuckled. "I'm sorry. We're not here to talk about me. And you're apparently doing well?"

"I'm good," Max admitted easily. "My best friend disappeared three years ago, we celebrated her funeral two years ago, and half of us fled the country in order to get over the grief. Me? I stayed, I joined the academy, I became a cop. I moved on."

"And your friends?" Max's therapist pushed. "They didn't move on?"

"Well." Max made a face. "They did _move_ : Lei and Marco to California, Xan to Washington, Rhi to London, Ben to Korea, Aaron to Australia. Then there's Stephen, who's special forces somewhere with the army. So moved? Definitely. But moved on?" He grunted. "I dunno about that."

"All of them have been wildly successful." The woman pointed out. "Pilot, dancer, actor, doctor. Lawyer, football star, cop," the therapist winked.

"They're bubbling." Max argued. "They're doing their best not to talk about the grief, but it's still there. It's simmering, bubbling up, and if nothing antagonizes it, they'll be fine."

"Yet you're worried." The therapist guessed. "What could possibly push all eight of your friends over the edge? All at the same time?"

"You're right." Max sighed heavily. "You're right. I'm worrying over nothing…I just." Max made a face. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Alright." The therapist shook her head. "I can't help you with that. Only time will tell. Let's talk about something else: how is work?"

Max felt a smile creep onto his face. "I ah, got a promotion, actually."

"Does this have anything to do with the monster epidemic?" The woman poked the newspaper on the coffee table, and Max's smile widened. "It does, as it so happens." He puffed up his chest. "New York's finest have been hand selected to form a new division, created specifically to deal with these monstrous crimes."

"Punny." The woman rolled her eyes. "The monsters have only been cropping up for the last, what? Six months? And they're just now putting a task force together to fight them?"

"Your government dollars at work." Max teased. He shot a look at the clock then stood, reaching for his hat. "But don't worry miss," his voice deepened. "I've been specifically chosen to fight back against this horrendous epidemic."

"Oh?" The woman smirked. "So your partner's dad being the police commissioner had nothing to do with it?"

Max grimaced. "It might've had something to do with it," he admitted. "But I'm not picky!" He grinned. "It's monster time!"

"Wait." The woman raised her pen when it looked like Max was ready to leave. "So – you're getting ready to start fighting monsters, alien like creatures that have been randomly popping up out of the blue for the last six months, all over the world, and you're choosing to spend all you're time worrying about the friends who you haven't seen in years, the ones, I might add, who SEEM to be doing just fine?"

"I have my priorities," Max said loftily. "Besides which, everyone's getting together in a few days. See ya!"

Max made a run for the door, but the woman threw her pen, and Max paused.

"You're kidding me," She said disbelievingly. "Your friends from high school, plus their parents?"

Max turned, shrugging lightly. "They're all meeting up? At the same place?"

Max nodded and moved back towards the couch.

"For the first time since the funeral?" Max didn't say anything, but he really didn't have to.

"Wow, Max." She shook her head. "This is serious."

"It's for Xander's last college game." He explained quickly. "We're all going in support, and yeah, everyone will be there for the first time since the funeral, which I guess makes it a make deal, but," Max grinned. "I can handle it."

* * *

"Says the guy who started bawling when you told a little kid to wear a helmet and they sassed you." The therapist crossed her arms.

"Hey!" Max pointed. "That kid was mean. This situation is not like that one at all, anyways."

"How?" She asked disbelievingly

"Because," Max stood again, and put on his hat with a wink. "I'm bringing backup."

Max Watson knew that seeing all his high school friends again was going to be rough.

Rough didn't even begin to cover it, really.

But it was going to be fine.

Because Max Watson had a secret weapon.

And that Secret weapons name was Officer Jamie Reagan.

Now, all Max had to do was get his partner to agree to take two days off with him to fly down to Washington state for a football game.

The only problem?

Well, there were three problems.

One, Jamie didn't take a day off. EVER.

Two, Jamie didn't follow football. He didn't even like football.

And Three? Jamie's childhood superhero, The Winter Soldier, was going to be there.

Which, any other normal person would give their left arm to meet their childhood favorite.

But Jamie? Well, Jamie probably wouldn't be able to handle it.

He'd have to, though, because Max had to go to this thing, and if Max had to go? Well, damn it, Max wasn't going without his partner.

Because Max had been honest with his therapist.

He had a really bad feeling.

* * *

"Was it good for you?"

Max paused in buckling his seat belt to shoot the driver a nasty look. The glare lasted only for a moment before Max let loose a chuckle, letting the click of the seatbelt echo in the car alongside his laughter. "Well," He admitted after a moment, eyeing the easy way in which his partner handled the police car, despite the gauze wrapped around one hand, scratched knuckles peeking out of the top of the wrap. "I do always leave satisfied." Max couldn't help but wiggle his eyebrows, finally glancing up to his partners face.

Matching scratches on the right cheekbone, making the blonde-haired blue-eyed broad-shouldered man in the cop uniform look even more dashing.

As if he'd needed help in that regard, Max snorted internally. "And I give as good as a I get," he added after a moment.

"Oh?" Blue eyes narrowed and the side of his mouth quirked into a half smile. "That's not what your last girlfriend said."

It was adorable, Max admitted to himself. "That girl." Max thought dreamily back to the super hot, crazy red-head he'd been dating a few months ago. "She had more issues than vogue."

"And what sounded like a life-time subscription to them," Max's partner snickered, and Max poked him in the shoulder.

"You shut your mouth, Reagan," He warned, "Or I'll tell your dad on you."

Reagan rolled his eyes, used to that particular threat. "Go ahead," He said glibly. "We'll be seeing him in less than 10."

"Yeah, for a meeting," Max crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, losing himself to the friendly camaraderie that he had with his partner.

* * *

Cop partners naturally became close, simply due to the job. But they didn't have to become friends.

Jamie Reagan was the first partner Max had been assigned, once he'd finished at the Academy. That first year, what with the disappearances, and then the funeral? Max hadn't been too keen on making friends.

Why would he? He already had friends.

And his best friend…well.

Finally, Max's captain forced him into therapy, and Max realized that what he was doing wasn't healthy.

So he moved on. He got his head in the game: and he realized his partner was not only a good cop, but a great friend, and the best part?

Max didn't have to share Reagan with anyone.

Also, dinners at the Reagan household was hilarious.

So, three years into his partnership and two into his friendship, what Max and Jamie had was pretty solid: both in the field and out.

* * *

"I can't believe we're on monster patrol."

"The advanced response special task force," Jamie corrected lightly, though he knew Max would disregard him.

Max grinned and ignored him. "We're gonna fight monsters, Reagan!"

"Says the guy who cried when a four-year-old yelled at him," Jamie teased.

"Says the guy who can't handle a raccoon." Max looked pointedly at Jamie's busted hand, and the fair-skinned man flushed.

"The thing was huge," He argued, smiling. "Infused with super strength, I just know it."

Max snickered. "Why even take on that beast anyway?" He asked, curious. "That thing's been living in your front yard since before you moved into the place. Why uproot it now?"

And Jamie flushed again. Max's eyes narrowed.

Because one: Jamie was his best friend. So Max could tell his friends blushes apart. The previous one? An embarrassed blush. This one?

It was most definitely a girl blush, caused only by a girl Jamie fancied.

"You did this for a girl." Max grinned, poking his friend, who simply flushed harder. "You took on the scariest thing in existence,"

"We're literally about to start hunting monsters," Jamie interrupted hotly, but Max continued as if his friend hadn't spoken,

"Mr. Bubbles the rabid raccoon is the scariest thing in the world, monsters INCLUDED," Max argued. "And you went up against him FOR A GIRL." Max shook his head. "She must be something special.

And yeah. Maybe there was a little hurt that accompanied Max's last statement.

Because hello? Jamie was Max's BEST FRIEND. So Max would know if Jamie were seeing anyone. Which he wasn't. Unless…

"Wait." Max turned halfway in his seat to glare at Jamie.

Jamie's hands clenched on the wheel, and he focused on the street ahead. He focused a little TOO hard, especially seeing as they were stopped at a red light.

"This is about your robber."

"She's not a robber." Jamie corrected automatically. "She hasn't stolen anything."

"Your B and E chick, then," Max tried impatiently.

"She hasn't broken anything either," He defended.

"Yeah, she just unlawfully enters your apartment to pet the cat and use your Netflix."

"See?" Jamie said weakly. "She's harmless."

"She's dangerous." Max huffed. "You went up against Mr. BUBBLES," He stressed, "for this chick. You like her."

"What?" Jamie's eyes widened dramatically. "I don't even know her, Watson," He pressed a little too hard on the gas, and they jerked forward.

"Which is why she's so dangerous!" Max threw his hands up. "She probably bat her eyes and asked you nicely to get rid of Mr. Bubbles and,"

"She didn't ask me," Jamie interrupted slowly, and Max's mouth dropped open in shock.

"She," Jamie winced and pulled into their station's parking lot. "She just mentioned that she didn't like the thing."

"Nobody likes Mr. Bubbles." Max hissed through his teeth. He glared at his partner, watching as the man put the car into park and then shut off the engine.

That's when it hit Max.

"You're a junkie." He announced. Jamie shot his friend a look and Max shrugged. "You crave danger, always have." He shook his head slowly and then climbed out of the car. After a moment, Jamie followed suit. Once the two were walking side by side, towards the station's front doors, Max continued. "You became a cop because you craved danger, you're in love with the woman breaking into your house,"

"Love," Jamie sputtered, but Max ignored him,

"And you've joined monster patrol because you just can't get enough." Max patted Jamie's shoulder. "Don't worry friend, I understand. And it will be okay."

The two slid through the front doors and took a left in the foyer, walking towards the conference room, where a group of thirty other officers and detectives mingled. The two men found a seat near the front.

Jamie took a moment to look at Max, a little incredulously. Then he huffed.

"It will be okay?" He repeated slowly. "What makes you think so?"

Max waved a hand at the room, smirking when the Police Commissioner strode in and made for the podium at the front of the room.

"Because soon enough we'll be fighting monsters every day." He explained, as if the answer was simple. "Then you won't have this strange infatuation with a criminal any longer." Max settled back in his seat, satisfied.

The commissioner cleared his throat and the room fell silent, and Jamie took a few more seconds to stare at his partner.

Because in Max's mind, Jamie would get caught up in the job and the beautiful woman who'd been breaking into his apartment for months would quickly be forgotten.

It wasn't such a crazy thought. For as long as Max had known Jamie, this had been his pattern.

The work always came first.

But this woman?

She wasn't so easily forgettable.

* * *

"Thank you all, first, for agreeing to take part of such a dangerous division. I understand that the cases you will be dealing with are still a mystery, that a lot of your training will take place on the job, and that the danger you will face can't compare to anything you've faced before."

Commissioner Reagan looked around the room, his eyes catching, only for a moment, on his son's.

"As all of you are aware, the attacks began six months ago, right here, in New York City, a slew of – unidentified beings attacked and destroyed nearly three blocks. We were woefully unprepared for the invasion. Thanks to an unnamed source, the attack was dealt with before any more damage occurred. Had this individual not been prepared, we would have lost much more than three blocks."

The commissioner spoke frankly, and though none of this was a surprise to those seated around the room, they listened attentively.

"Since the first attack, the united states have suffered more such incidents, averaging at least four every thirty days. New York has been most predominantly hit. Along with New York, San Francisco, Colorado, and London have been target multiple times. As a species, The U.S., along with London, Australia, and a few other countries, have decided to form a team designated to assessing, identifying, and containing these attacks. You are that team."

"Because the Avengers were busy, right?" A tall blonde woman called, out, and a few people around her snickered.

The commissioner shrugged. "They're retired." He said vaguely.

"You mean they said no." The same woman corrected.

"In a nutshell." The commissioner admitted freely.

"Which means we're it." A man in the back row stood, eyes squinted. "What good are we going to do?"

The commissioner looked at his son for a moment. Jamie stared back, shrugging slightly.

"We do have a secret weapon," He admitted, after he'd been given the go-ahead. "An individual whose come up against creatures like this before."

The entire room leaned forward. The attacks, everyone knew about. The team they were joining? That was global news. But a secret weapon? That was new.

"The Ally?" the back row man said.

And murmurs filled the room.

"The Ally," the blonde woman from before raised an eyebrow. "The ghost?"

"The Ally is a name given by the press," The commissioners press liaison, a broad man with close cropped blond hair and wide eyes stepped forward. "We can neither confirm nor deny that the Ally is our source,"

"Not legally, anyway," the commissioner muttered, pushing his press liaison out of the way. "But if I could confirm," he paused meaningfully, "or deny, what would your thoughts be on The Ally as a consultant?" He stared down the woman, who didn't seem fazed, simply tilting her head as she thought.

"I think that with The Ally on our side," She began slowly, "then our chances of surviving this unit for more than three days just went up…dramatically." She sat back down and nodded.

"We're talking about the person who's been single-handedly taking out these things right?" Max clarified with a raised hand. "Although more recently they've been inviting friends and making it a party."

"That's who we're taking about," The commissioner nodded.

"Why don't they just join us outright?" Someone asked.

The commissioner was silent for a moment. "They were invited," he finally said. He didn't seem inclined to say anything more, and the silence stretched on, until Max raised a hand.

"And?" He pressed.

"They said no." The commissioner said frankly.

"So you asked the Avengers," Max rolled his eyes, because of course they'd say no, "and they turned you down, and you asked the Ally, and they said no." He crossed his arms. "Let me guess. They said it's me, not you."

"The Avengers were a little more eloquent." The commissioner shook his head. "The Ally told our mediator to shove it."

"Wow." Max grinned. "I like them already."

* * *

"So."

"So."

Max and Jamie undressed in the locker room, hours later.

"Our last shift as officers is over." Max patted his uniform with a small sigh. "Two days off, then back at it." He shot a look at Jamie. "But as specialists."

Max leaned against his locker, wearing a white tshirt and bright red boxers. "Whatever are you going to do with your free time?"

"Home." Jamie answered quickly. "Sleep."

"Spend one last fateful night with your lady?" Max teased.

Jamie pointedly avoided eye contact, and Max frowned. "No." He pointed at his friend. "No more. I'm cutting you off cold turkey." He bounced on the balls of his feet. "You're going out of town with me tomorrow."

"No." Jamie shook his head quickly, thinking of his cat, of the chores he had to do tomorrow…of her. "I've got plans."

"They're cancelled." Max grinned. "You're waking up early tomorrow and hopping on a plane with me, west coast bound!"

"Why would I do that?" Jamie pulled on his jeans, eyebrows furrowed.

"A friend of mine is playing the college national championships." Jamie shot Max a confused look, and Max rolled his eyes. "Football, Reagan. I have an extra ticket, and you're coming."

"No I'm not," Jamie shook his head.

"Yes you are." Max beamed. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7am sharp." He patted Jamie's shoulder. "See you then!"

"I'm not going!" Jamie called after Max, who darted out of the locker room, still wearing only boxers.

But Max didn't bother to reply and Jamie huffed and pulled his jacket on.

He was more than ready to head home.

* * *

When Jamie got home, his apartment was already occupied.

The TV was the only source of light in the apartment, muted and stuck on the news.

The second occupant of the apartment was settled on the couch in front of the TV, a worn afghan covering their lap.

The TV illuminated the gray Harvard tee the individual wore, and Jamie couldn't help but smile a little disbelievingly.

"You're wearing my shirt?"

"Well." The woman on his couch didn't look up at him. "Mine got blood on it."

A spike of alarm shot down Jamie's spine, but he aimed to keep his voice light. "Your blood?"

"Unlikely." The firm confidence in the low voice had Jamie's shoulders relaxing. "But possible." The woman added after a moment. "The beastie today was vicious."

"There was an attack today?" Jamie moved slowly to his favorite armchair, cautious of not moving too quickly around the woman on his couch. "I haven't heard anything."

"Overseas." The woman tilted her head, and Jamie was finally angled so that he could see her eyes.

She blinked slowly, and impossibly long lashes swept across high cheekbones. "You wouldn't have heard of it yet." She sighed, a hint of pain in the noise. "I hope you're team gets up and running soon." She flipped the blanket off of her lap, and two long gashes across one thigh immediately caught his gaze. "I'm too damn old for this, she muttered, poking at the wound.

Jamie's fingers twitched, but he stayed seated. "We'd be up and running a lot faster if we had an someone experienced join the ranks," he said, eyebrow raised, and she huffed.

"For the sixty-eighth time," she drawled, voice tinged with amusement. "No, Reagan. I'll tell you what I know, but I'm no team player." She stood, pressing a finger down the length of one of her gashes. She didn't even flinch. "And I'm certainly no leader."

"I think your followers would disagree," Jamie said teasingly.

She rolled her eyes. "Shut it Reagan." She made towards the door, and Jamie opened his mouth.

He wasn't ready for her to leave. "Speaking of advice," she called over her shoulder, shooting a look his way. "I'd take up your little partner on his extra ticket."

It took Jamie a second to follow. "You mean Max? His tickets to that game tomorrow?" He tilted his head. "Why?"

"Washington State." The illusive woman who'd been breaking into Jamie's apartment for the last six months chuckled. "It just kind of feels like the place to be tomorrow." She caught Jamie's gaze, and Jamie froze.

His visitor rarely made sense when she spoke, always talking in riddles, always condescending, always preferring to insult Jamie than make sense, and she almost never made direct eye contact.

So when her gaze caught his, Jamie froze, too distracted by the shades of brown surrounding her pupils: the outer deep chestnut ring, the lighter center, almost a hazel with the tiniest flecks of green.

"Your leg." He said stupidly. "It needs fixed."

"Bruiser will fix me up," She confirmed, still holding his gaze. "He always does."

Jamie vaguely remembered the blonde thin british man who'd been with her when he'd come home from work a few months ago.

Inwardly he bristled. But he simply smiled tightly and nodded.

"I guess I'll see you when I get back?" He furrowed his eyebrows, and she smiled, a quirk of her lips that only lifted one side of her mouth.

"Sure." She said vaguely. "See you around, Reagan."

And she was gone.

Jamie sighed, vibrating slightly.

Maybe there was a bit of an adrenaline rush that came along with his nightly visitor, he admitted freely to himself.

But there was more to it than that.

Jamie huffed and argued to himself the whole time he packed an overnight bag.

Apparently, he was going away for the weekend.

* * *

 **Chapter one! I think it's set everything up very nicely - chapter two is next!**

 **Review/Follow/Favorite?**

 **~CLC~**


	2. Monster Patrol

**UPDATE: This is Chapter two, but since I combined smaller chapters, it's actually Chapters Three and half of Chapter Four.**

 **See Chapter One for Disclaimer**

* * *

Max and Jamie showed up to the football stadium in a sleek black car that had picked them up at the airport. The two New York cops stepped out of the vehicle, both in dark jeans and long sleeved shirts, Max's a deep blue that matched his eyes, and Jamie's a light gray. The duo made a striking pair, and the cameras loitering around the entrance took notice. When Max slid his sunglasses off his face and shot them a smile, the crowd grew hectic.

"Max Watson! Max Watson!" They shouted, the previously dormant cameras flashing and pointing straight at the shorter man.

Jamie raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You're famous?" He asked disbelievingly. "For what?"

"My old high school crowd was kind of a big deal," Max admitted easily. "You were out of town when we really got famous, but people adored us." He shot a big smile towards the cameras. "They still do."

"I think New York missed that memo," Jamie said after a moment, and Max made a face.

"Everywhere except my hometown adores me," he clarified, finally tiring of the cameras and moving towards the front door. Jamie followed gratefully, blinded by the lights.

"That's because your hometown knows you," he teased when they doors finally blocked the annoying flashes.

"Says the guy whose girlfriend is a criminal." Max retorted easily, leading the way, down a long hallway and up a staircase, through another hallway and yet another staircase.

"But a beautiful one," Jamie sighed dreamily as he tagged after his friend. "Where's your girlfriend again? Oh right." Max paused in front of a bright red door to shoot his friend a dry look, then the door was opening, and Jamie blinked up surprise.

Max had neglected to inform Jamie that they would be watching the game in a box: complete with a bar, plush seats, and several large screen TV's for easy viewing, as well as a window that took up the entire opposite wall, so the game could be seen in person as well.

And then there was the man, standing in front of the mirror, a beer in one hand.

"Mr. Stark," Max greeted brightly.

Jamie watched as the man turned an easy smile on his face. The contrast between the smile the man was directing at Max and the pensieve look he'd had before he'd noticed them was blinding to Jamie…But Max didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he didn't want to.

"It's good to see you Mr. Stark," Max greeted. "New York just isn't the same now that you're not in the heart of the city."

"You're just saying that because you wanted to arrest me," He chuckled. Max shrugged, unable to deny it. "Well, Kid, you're out of luck. I'm an old man now. I hardly get involved in things like that." Jamie suddenly found himself under the scrutiny of Tony Stark's watchful gaze. "This your boyfriend?" He asked, and Max choked.

"No." He shook his head quickly. "This is Jamie Reagan. My Partner."

Stark leaned forward to shake Jamie's hand, but he kept his eyes on Max, one eyebrow raised.

It took Max a second to realize why, and he sputtered. "WORK partner," he stressed. "Come on, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark chuckled and released Jamie's hand, and the door opened, revealing a tall dark haired man with a pretty brunette on his arm, two teenagers with the mans curly dark hair and the woman's intelligent eyes trailing in after the couple, both speaking over each other.

"Uncle Sherlock, Aunt Jane," Max smiled and raised his voice so the adults could hear him. "My partner, WORK," He added quickly when he heard Tony snort from behind him, "Jamie Reagan."

"Heard of you." Sherlock said bluntly as he shook Jamie's hand. "Hello." His long coat flapped regally as he moved to speak with Stark a few feet away. The woman shook Jamie's hand next, rolling her eyes.

"He's eccentric," was all she said. "My two youngest, twins Becca and Jamie, actually." The two girls caught Jamie's eye, then began to giggle loudly.

"Hey!" Max's hands fell to his hips, lip pushed out in mock anger. "When did you guys grow up? Last I saw, you were twelve and crazy!"

"We're fifteen now, cousin," one of the girls said, rolling her eyes.

"We're all grown up!" The other girl said snottily, shooting Jamie a shy look. Jane rolled her eyes and pushed the teenagers away from Jamie.

"They're eccentric," She added wryly. "I wonder where they get it." She pointed a finger at the seats, and the twins, flounced towards them, but only after shooting Jamie one last smile.

"Not actually my Uncle," Max explained cheerily. "He and my dad are very close though, both from London. Speaking of," Jamie blinked as another man stepped through.

This man, at least, was familiar, if only because he and his son looked remarkably similar.

Max pulled the newcomer, obviously his father, into a tight hug. "Dad!" He beamed. "How was your flight?"

The man, face lined but smile bright, shrugged. "I was sat in between Bec and Jam," he said dryly. "How do you think it went?"

"Right." Max grimaced. "Well you're here now! You can officially meet my work partner: Jamie Reagan."

The eyes were the same, Jamie noted, as he shook Max's dad's hand, but Mr. Watson's eyes were shadowed.

Max's eyes could get like that, sometimes, whenever he got lost in his thoughts, or on certain days that Max liked to call "Dark Days" though he'd never explain what that meant, but for the most part, Max was easy going and filled with life.

John Watson's eyes told stories that Jamie couldn't follow, but left the cop with one certainty: John Watson was a good man.

He smiled easily for the first time since the introductions had begun. "It is an honor to meet you," Jamie said sincerely, and John nodded approvingly.

"Same to you," He said gruffly. "This must be a bit crazy, meeting everyone all at once?"

"This definitely wasn't the direction I saw my weekend taking, but it should be interesting."

John and Max snorted, a simultaneous huff of breath out of their nostrils. "Yeah," John said dryly. "It will at least be that." He nodded at Jamie, slapped Max on the back, and then moved to speak with Tony and Sherlock, waving at Jane, who was still trying to get her teenagers situated.

"These are your friends parents?" Jamie asked disbelievingly after a moment.

"Oh just wait." Max beamed. "It gets better."

Steve Rogers stepped into the room seconds later, and Jamie exhaled.

"Of course," He breathed. "Captain America."

"Right?" Max grinned. "Come on: I'll introduce you."

Jamie didn't really WANT to be introduced to the living legend, but Steve Rogers was suddenly in front of him, and Jamie was shaking the tall man's hand, then his wife's surprisingly fragile one.

Then Pepper Stark, wife of Tony Stark, was there, looking regal and frightening in pearls (at a football game? Really?) a mini-version of herself hanging off of one arm, then Thor, his own mini-me with him, arrived, (THOR, the GOD.)

And Jamie had dumbly shaken the mans hand and blurted out, "I'm Catholic."

Which had the room bursting into laughter, Thor included.

"Noted," The man had said with a grin before joining the rest of the adults.

It was twenty minutes later, giving Jamie enough time to catch his breath, that the first two "Supers" arrived.

"Loser!" The man was Max's height, his hazel eyes bright, his cheeks flushed. The blonde woman he'd had an arm wrapped around rolled her eyes.

"Hey Max," she greeted in a smoky voice. "Why am I the only one wearing team colors?" Her purple long sleeve cardigan draped around her small frame in flattering lines, revealing a gauzy gray top underneath.

"Blue's my color," Max sniffed. "Hey, Jamie's wearing gray."

"Jamie, hmm." The woman appraised Jamie slowly. She smiled. "Hey. I'm Leila Barton." She fluttered her eyelashes, and the brunette nudged her.

"You're practically engaged," he chastised. "Cool it, flirt."

"I can't help it Marco," She huffed. "It just comes naturally."

"Yeah, Yeah. I'm Marco Stark." The man winked. "You must be Max's boyfriend."

"Why are you guys doing that?" Max whined, and Leila snickered. "He's my best friend and we work together. I like girls."

"Of course you do," Leila said seriously. "It's just too fun to tease you."

"Something we can agree on," Jamie shot the young woman a polite smile, and she beamed back, touching her wrists only slightly self-consciously.

Max noticed Leila's simultaneous flirting and unease out of the corner of his eye, his attention torn between Leila's odd behavior and the way Steve hovered nervously over his wife, as if refusing to let her walk out of arm's length. In contrast, Mr. and Mrs. Stark were on opposite ends of the room.

Leila squealed suddenly, launching herself towards the door, where Clint Barton and a few other men had just entered.

Clint quickly wrapped an arm around his daughter, shooting Jamie a glare.

"Don't even think about it!" he warned quickly. "She's taken!"

"Mr. Barton," Max rolled his eyes. "this is my WORK partner," Max was catching on now, "Jamie Reagan."

"You're cute," Clint observed. "Stay away from my kid."

"You don't have to worry about that," Max winked at his partner. "Poor Jamie here is pining after an unavailable criminal."

"A man after my own heart." One of the men who had just entered stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Dean Singer, I used to work with Max's dad, until he moved out of THE COUNTRY," Dean raised his voice pointedly.

"It's only for three years!" John called back from the bar he sat at. Dean grinned and moved that way.

"Sam Wilson." The next man, a tall dark-skinned man with an easy smile introduced himself. "All of these idiots are crazy." And then Sam was headed towards the bar as well.

"Jamie, right?" The last man stepped forward. He looked older than the rest of the adults, maybe from the nervous way he stepped forward, maybe from the lines that bracketed his mouth, but Jamie relaxed in his presence.

"Jamie Reagan, yeah." He shook the man's hand.

"Bruce Banner," He introduced, and it took all of Jamie's training not to freeze. The most dangerous man in the world…was shaking Jamie's hand.

"Great to meet you," Jamie held onto his smile, and the man smirked, as if he could read Jamie's mind.

Maybe he could.

"Good luck." He stepped away with a smile. "It's going to be a crazy day."

"You're not the first person to tell me that," Jamie admitted wryly, thinking of the beautiful woman from the night before.

Dr. Banner moved away to greet the rest of the room, and Jamie leaned towards Max. "Is it just me," he muttered, "Or are all of these people just pretending that everything's alright, when something is really, really off? With all of them?"

"Well." Max shot his partner a surprised look. He thought he'd been the only one. "You're not wrong."

Jamie opened his mouth to press the issue, but the door was opening, and a group closer to Jamie's age stepped in, all laughing and talking.

"Guys!" Max's grin widened and instead of waiting for them to move closer, Max approached them, laughing. "It's been too damn long!"

A tall black man with broad shoulders and wearing an army uniform beamed and wrapped his arms around Max, patting his back hard.

"Sorry for trying to defend America," the man teased.

"You have a pass," Max admitted readily. "These two!" He shook an Asian man with green eyes hands. "Ben, Korea is one plane ride away."

"Yeah," Ben snorted. "One long-ass plane ride away." Max rolled his eyes then pulled a pretty brunette woman into a hug. The last man in the group, a red-head wearing a suit, crossed his arms. The man smiled at the hug-exchange, but Jamie saw the man's eyes twitch the longer the hug went on, and the woman quickly stepped out of Max's arms and returned to the other man's, who placed a hand possessively on her waist.

"Max, you remember Grayson, of course?"

Max smiled genially at the red-head, but he didn't hold out his hand to shake. Grayson didn't seem to bothered by the slight. "Of course man! You two are the relationship that survived high school."

"Hey!" Ben crossed his arms.

"Besides you and Leila, of course!" Max rolled his eyes. "But that was never in question."

Ben's eyes furrowed. "Where is she, anyway?" He began to scan the room, eyes lighting up when he caught sight of the blonde in question. He was already moving towards her when he caught sight of Jamie.

"Oh." His eyebrows furrowed. "Do I know you?"

"Jamie Reagan. I work with Max." Jamie greeted quickly, more than ready to be done with the introductions.

"Right. Nice to meet you." Ben bobbed his head, continuing in the direction of his girlfriend.

"What he said," Max explained, patting Jamie's shoulder.

"Jamie, this is Rhiannon Odinson, and her boyfriend Grayson. Rhi's brother is the one playing in the game."

Jamie nodded. One question answered then.

"And you work together?" Rhiannon clarified."

Max nodded. "He's my partner!" he said proudly, and Rhiannon's eyes lit up.

"Marco!" She called out. "You owe me ten bucks!"

Marco turned away from the exchange he'd been having with his father, the dark expression on his face clearing away quickly. "No way!" he called back happily. "They're just work partners!" Max's mouth dropped open in outrage, but a new voice spoke up before Max could voice his rage.

"Is that what they're calling it now?" The new voice said dryly, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

"Aaron!" Leila ran forward to hug the carbon copy of Steve Rogers standing in the doorway. "We thought you weren't going to make it!"

The young man grinned, and he winked, hugging Leila tightly.

"Eh," He said lightly. "JJ would've wanted me to be here."

The room froze and Jamie shot Max a confused look. Max sighed heavily.

"The friend we lost in high school?" He spoke lowly, voice heavy. "Her name was JJ."

"Right." Jamie nodded in understanding.

* * *

Because really, he DID understand. When he'd lost his brother, it had been taboo to speak of him at all, let alone mention his name.

It had taken years to heal.

This situation was no different.

And suddenly the cracks in everyone's masks made a little more sense.

* * *

Aaron blinked. "So, what's everyone been up to?" He asked awkwardly, and his friends leapt on the change of subject and dragged him into the room. Aaron was accosted by his friends before making his way to his parents, where he smiled down at his mom and placed a gently kiss on her cheek, and the room grew louder as conversations picked up.

Jamie heaved a huge sigh of relief when minutes ticked by and no one else entered the room.

"Is that everyone then?" Jamie asked hopefully, and Max smiled.

The smile was mischevious and unsettled Jamie, but before he could ask, the door was opening once more.

The silence in the room when Aaron Rogers had stepped inside? That was a rock concert compared to the death silence the room fell into just then.

Bucky Barnes took off his leather jacket and shot the room a slow smile.

And Jamie Reagan forgot how to breathe.

Max was the first to step forward.

"Barnes." He greeted, not surprised by the mans arrival. "Good to see you again. How's the hunt?"

Bucky returned Max's smile. "It goes," he winked, then shot Jamie a curious look. "Let me guess," he raised an eyebrow. "Officer Jamie Reagan, of the 12th Precinct?"

"He knows me," Jamie breathed out suddenly,perhaps a little louder than intended, because everyone heard him. Max snorted, and Jamie shoved an elbow into Max's stomach.

Bucky for his part, just smiled, a quirk of the lips that gave away his amusement.

"Max thinks you're pretty great," Bucky shrugged, explaining without having to be asked. "Also I met with your dad a few days ago."

"What were you doing in New York?" Steve eyed his best friend in surprise. "I thought you were still in Florida."

Bucky dropped his black leather jacket onto a seat and shrugged, ignoring the question for a moment to lean forward and shake Max's hand warmly, and then Jamie's.

Jamie choked, his arm reaching out to enthusiastically shake the metal-armed man.

"I loved you, growing up," Jamie confided, voice low. "You were my hero."

"Oh?" Bucky raised an eyebrow, but he looked pleasantly surprised. "No one's ever said that to me before." He chuckled. "I'm usually just famous by association." He pointed at Steve. "And I'm just passing through, don't get any weird ideas."

"Following a trail?" Max asked cryptically. A wink was the only answer he got, as Bucky was pulled into a conversation with Clint Barton and John Watson moments later.

Max shrugged, not surprised by the lack of response, and smirked at Jamie. "Lose your cool, much?"

Jamie just shrugged, still in shock, and Max laughed.

"Now," he said in satisfaction. "That's the last one." He sighed a little wistfully. "This is everyone."

Max Watson was wrong.

But he didn't realize it yet.

* * *

Football.

Jamie understood the game.

This? This was less a football game and more an opportunity to rub elbows with the rich and famous, to look good and make fun of who looked bad, and Jamie didn't understand this AT ALL. It wasn't a real sport if you weren't watching it in the nosebleeds and everything smelled like peanuts and grease.

So Jamie watched his partner, the most down to earth guy he knew, chat with the Avengers and joke with these supermodel adults who didn't look like real life, and stuck to his corner.

"Her name was JJ." Jamie started at the voice. He'd been so busy watching Marco Stark arguing with his father under guise of "talking" that he hadn't heard anyone walk up.

Jamie looked over at the speaker, and froze.

Bucky Barnes smiled and shrugged. "My daughter. She went missing in June of 2016, the night of her high school graduation."

"When was her body discovered?" Jamie asked, voice low.

He'd only been around these people for an hour, and he already knew this subject was taboo. And yet, the very man who would've been most affected stood next to Jamie and spoke wistfully about the daughter he'd lost: of everyone in the room, Bucky Barnes was the only one who seemed to have moved on.

"We didn't." Bucky shook his head. "After a year of searching, I decided to close the case. Everyone was hurting," he shrugged. "And I'd hoped that if we buried something, if we held the funeral, it would give the kids some closure, enough to move on."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Jamie shook his head slowly. "These aren't the actions of people who've moved on."

"You noticed that too?" Bucky grimaced. "My daughter was the best person I ever knew," he admitted, "She was the only good thing I've ever done in my life, but I'm the first to admit that she was a pushover. She let this cast of characters push her around, step on her, and use her."

"You think maybe she got tired of it all and ran?" Jamie asked, and Bucky shot him a surprised look.

"She's been missing 3 and a half years," Bucky shook his head. "The thought that she could've just run off never crossed my mind."

"Could she have?" Jamie asked, and Bucky opened his mouth, but a sudden roar of excitement from the rest of the room gave him pause.

"Xan's up!" Someone called, and Bucky made a face. "Xander Odinson, number eight for the Huskies," Bucky explained at Jamie's confused expression. "JJ and Xan dated all of senior year. They were the golden couple." Bucky made a face. "To answer your question, I don't think she would've left willingly, but if whoever took her gave her the chance to come back, well." Bucky sighed. "If I were her, I might take the opportunity to start over, without all the strings."

Jamie tilted his head. "From the little you've told me," he said slowly, "She sounds loyal, and if she's anything like you, she's determined. If she had a chance to come back, she would take it, as long as she knew that there were people out there who cared about her."

Bucky shot Jamie a look. "I've told you three things about her," he said dryly. "How is it that you seem to know her better than the people who've know her all her life?"

Jamie rubbed his hands together. "I'm objective," he guessed. "Your daughter sounds like a smart and capable woman. Do you really think she's dead?"

"I know that my girl is a fighter. It's not so crazy to think she still's out there somewhere. I also think," Bucky said slowly, raising his eyebrow wryly. "That if she's still alive, she's a more talented actress than I thought."

Jamie furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she's got the ghost act down," Bucky jerked his head. "You ever see so many people haunted by the same ghost?"

Jamie thought of his brother, of how rough it had been when they'd had no answers.

They had it easy, Jamie realized suddenly. At least they could be sure Joe was really gone.

This group? They didn't have that certainty.

"Sir," Jamie said after a moment. "I know exactly what you mean."

Bucky watched Jamie for a long moment, and then he smiled, clapping the young man on the shoulder.

"I think you do," he agreed. "Both of us, still chasing ghosts." Bucky stood and moved away from Jamie, immediately ending up in conversation with a group of adults.

And Jamie found himself surrounded.

"Don't mind him," Marco Stark rolled his eyes. "The guys crazy from grief,"

"Of course," Stephen shot Marco a look, "Who could blame him? He's lost so much,"

"He's hurting," Leila added sadly. "We tend to indulge him,"

"He may be crazy, but he's still family," Marco added, taking a large swallow from his beer.

"He was fine," Jamie tried to say, but they spoke over him.

"We don't really see him as much, tends to be a recluse," Stephen tried to explain.

"Moved out of the country for a year just to cope," Leila shook her head sadly. "Most of us haven't seen him since the funeral."

"Then how can you speak on his mental status?" Jamie spoke up suddenly, not liking the nonchalant way these guys brushed off Bucky Barnes.

His harsh question earned him a glare from the men and a taken aback frown from Leila.

"Well – who wouldn't be?" Marco blustered.

"He seemed fine." Jamie argued. "He was," He paused, but then soldiered on. "He was just telling me about JJ."

The effect was instantaneous. Marco finished off his beer in one swallow and reached for another, Leila grabbed for the bangles on her wrist nervously, and Stephen ducked, as if bracing for a blow.

All from a name.

Jamie frowned and opened his mouth, but the door to their box was slamming open, catching everyone's attention.

Jamie's eyes widened, because he recognized the man standing in the doorway.

The tall, thin man, wearing a severe black suit, stared disbelievingly at the room in front of him.

"The Avengers," he said, his voice cultured, his british accent thick. "Well…damn."

* * *

"Can we help you?" Steve Rogers asked dryly, and the man snorted.

"Were I ever in need of a fossil," he snapped, his tone clipped, "You will be the first one I call."

The insult took Steve by surprise, his eyes widening at the blatant disrespect. He opened his mouth to retort, but the man was done with Steve, his attention successfully diverted, his focus now on Jamie.

"Reagan," he greeted waspishly, and Jamie raised a hand in an awkward half-wave.

"You know this guy?" Max asked his partner in surprise, and Jamie shrugged, because really, how did one explain that the only time Jamie had ever seen the guy, he'd been drinking Jamie's beer, seated in Jamie's apartment, and talking in low tones with Jamie's resident robber?

"He's a…friend?" Jamie tried, but the blonde man, his hair closer to white than blonde, made a face.

"I wouldn't go that far," he said with a sneer. "We're simply…acquaintances, with a mutual friend." The man raised an aristocratic eyebrow, and suddenly the strange man's random appearance made total sense.

His robber obviously had need of him.

"She has need of you," the man confirmed, and Jamie nodded.

That was all he needed to know.

"When?" he asked quickly, grabbing for his jacket. "Where?"

The man smirked. "Here." He pulled out a phone. "Now."

And suddenly Jamie found himself being shoved into a closet.

* * *

 **Well that was abrupt. Chapter three is on its way!**

 **Review/Follow/Favorite?**

 **~CLC~**


	3. Hot Box

**UPDATE: Due to combining smaller chapters, this is Chapter Three, but is actually The last half of chapter 4 and all of chapter 5.**

 **See Chapter One for Disclaimer**

* * *

"What?!" He screeched, but before he could protest, or demand answers, or fight off the surprisingly strong man, a phone was being shoved into his ear and a familiar voice was drawling,

"Can you hear me now?"

"Hey!" Jamie almost smiled, because even though this woman, whose real name he didn't know, whose past was a mystery, was constantly getting him into awkward scrapes and dangerous situations, the very sound of her voice made him want to smile.

"Hey yourself, hot stuff," the woman greeted.

"Hey, what's going –" on, Jamie tried to ask, but the woman spoke over him.

"Sorry babe, no time for foreplay. Listen, Bruiser is going to give you a couple of headpieces. Only use them if you have to, alright?"

The man at Jamie's side dropped a few pieces into Jamie's hand, and he automatically shoved them into his pocket. "One for me," he nodded in understanding, "who are the others for?"

"Bruiser is being surprisingly close-lipped about that answer," The woman admitted. "So uh, I'm not really sure – they're for just in case… And YOU won't need one – Bruiser is going to connect you directly." And "Brusier," or whatever his real name was, hit Jamie on the back of the head, HARD.

"Ow!" He muttered angrily, lifting a hand to rub the spot Bruiser had smacked him. There'd be a bruise for sure. "Is that why you call this guy Bruiser?" He guessed, and the woman chuckled.

"It's one reason," she admitted. "Listen, I need a favor."

"Anything," Jamie promised immediately, and Bruiser snorted. Jamie shot the guy a dirty look, but kept his focus on the conversation.

"There's going to be an attack," The woman spoke briskly.

"Here?" Jamie said incredulously. "When?"

"Yes, here." The woman answered impatiently. "Keep an eye on the clock, it's the final countdown." Jamie furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth to ask for clarification, but she kept speaking. "Your little friends? Beta informs me they'll be inclined to participate – whatever that means, seeing as SOMEONE," She raised her voice meaningfully, "refuses to inform me about the group in Box 23." Bruiser grimaced, and Jamie thought of the group of rich snobs in the room on the other side of the door. From what Jamie had seen of them, they hardly seemed the type to jump into a fight; barring a zombie apocalypse, the closest that group would get to participation, Jamie guessed, would be to just get as far away as possible, but he didn't argue. "Let's give them a friendly reminder that this is a spectator sport, not a free for all, alright?" She finished.

"Done," Jamie agreed, not seeing his job to be all that difficult.

"Confidence," The woman said, and Jamie could hear the smile in her voice, could almost see the slight upturn on the right side of her mouth (the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her face, apparently being a robber with a background in fighting monsters was serious business.) "That's sexy."

Jamie grinned. "What happens if I fail?" He asked, purely curious.

"I'll beat you," was Jamie's immediate answer, and Jamie's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Understood," he said slowly. "Do ME a favor?" He asked.

"What?" She asked suspiciously, and Jamie smiled.

"Make sure you're the one walking away from this fight?"

"Please." The woman scoffed. "I always do."

And she was right. The confidence thing? It was sexy.

"Keep yourself breathing, Reagan." She ordered, and then the phone was being wrenched out of his hand, and Jamie turned in time to see "Bruiser" sliding the phone into the inside pocket of his blazer and sliding a long thin stick up his sleeve.

"Uh," Jamie frowned, and pointed, but Bruiser was throwing open the closet door and shoving Jamie, and he stumbled into view of a confused, but attentive audience.

Bruiser ignored the curious looks shot his way and simply straightened his jacket and strode out the door.

Jamie grimaced – because how was he going to explain this one?

* * *

The group in front of him waited in anticipation for Jamie's explanation, but Jamie's priority was finding a clock.

What had she said?

" _eye on the clock – final countdown"_

Countdown…

Jamie's eyes strayed out the wall to wall window, to where the scoreboard was counting down the seconds until half-time.

 _2:06…_

 _2:03…_

 _1:58…_

"So!" Max interrupted the internal monologue Jamie was going through. "What the hell just happened? Who was that?"

"I don't know," Jamie mumbled, eyes tracking the field.

Less than two minutes…but until what?

"You don't know?" Rhiannon's boyfriend Grayson scoffed. "That guy manhandled you into the closet like he knew you – intimately." The man's eyes narrowed. "You're not a poof, are you?"

Max whirled on Rhiannon's boyfriend. "He can be whatever he wants!" He defended.

"We're not arguing that," Bucky smirked. "Reagan. What's going on?"

"Not sure," Jamie muttered, though he moved closer to the window, looking for something…anything out of the ordinary.

And that's when he noticed it.

The stadium was so crowded, the game so exciting, that no one really paid attention to one lone figure walking the perimeter of the field.

Even when the figure, head down, face covered by the hood attached to her jacket, hand shoved into the pockets, stepped sideways, from the sidelines and onto the actual field, no one really paid any attention to her.

Not until she was halfway onto the field did anyone realize that there was a fan on the field.

Jamie noticed a few moments earlier.

Mostly because he recognized the hoodie.

"Dammit," He muttured – "that's MY jacket…"

Seriously. Why was she always stealing his clothes?!

"Whoa." Marco joined Jamie at the window, following his gaze. "What's with the crazy walking onto the field?"

"What?" The rest of the group crowded around the window, eyes widening.

"Arent the refs going to do anything?" Rhiannon muttered.

"I don't think they notice her yet," Steve admitted, but then the tv screens changed from following the ball to zooming in on the hoodie-clad figure, and the murmuring grew louder.

"Look," Thor snickered. "Xander's pissed."

Number eight, Jamie remembered. They guy everyone was here to support, and Jamie was only just now, finally getting a good look at the guy. He was tall, and broad, well-muscled, and pissed, if the frown on his face was anything to go by. He shouted, but the figure didn't seem to hear, or if they did, they didn't stop. The ugly look on Xander Odinson's face grew, and with a growl, he let loose the ball he'd been holding in his hand.

The ball spiraled.

It was a beautiful throw, Jamie admitted.

But it was fast…and it was also aimed right at the figure's head.

But seconds before the ball made contact, a hand shot up and grabbed the football right out of the air, one handed. The hoodie shifted as the figure turned to face number 8, and number 8 was given a clear look at the face under the hood.

Eyes widened and jaw dropped, and then the entire player was dropping, his butt making harsh contact with the group as he fell, his face pale, as if he'd just seen a ghost.

Jamie couldn't blame the guy – if the figure making a scene right now was who he thought it was – well, it was a hell of a face.

Jamie shot a look towards the scoreboard, which, to his surprise, was still counting down.

 _0:05…_

 _0:04…_

 _0:03…_

 _0:02…_

Jamie looked back, to where the figure had finally reached the center of the field, and as the buzzer sounded, signaling the beginning of half time, the figure stopped, flicked the hood back, and made direct eye contact with the camera closest to her.

Dark hair, pulled tight into a long ponytail, flew in the breeze, and bright brown eyes flashed.

Jamie smiled…because dammit, that face just got him.

But the group around him reacted very differently.

Jamie's robber sent the camera a wink, and a loud roar echoed through the stadium.

* * *

At first, Jamie thought the roar had come from the box he was in, so loudly did they react.

But then Jamie saw the giant gray flying thing, headed straight for the figure in the middle of the field.

Oh.

Then Jamie turned to catch sight of the rest of the box staring in shock at the field, not at the monster, but at the woman.

Jamie's eyebrows furrowed, but then Bucky was rushing towards the window, one hand reaching out only to be stopped by glass.

"JJ?" He said disbelievingly, and Jamie's stomach dropped.

What did he just –

But then, before Jamie could convince himself that maybe he'd just heard the man wrong, Bucky Barnes was saying it again, staring at the woman who'd been breaking into Jamie's apartment for the last six months.

"JJ!"

Oh.

 _OH._

Well…damn.

This wasn't the zombie apocalypse.

It was much – MUCH worse.

* * *

Bucky was the first to move, half -stumbling to the door, as if drunk.

"Buck," Steve started to speak, but Bucky let out a growl that was so inhuman, so animal, Steve went silent immediately.

Bucky reached the door and grabbed for the handle, but it wouldn't turn.

The door was locked.

Jamie's eyes widened as Bucky ran towards ran towards him and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket. Jamie grunted as he was slammed into the glass, the window shaking at the impact.

"Your little friend –" Bucky hissed. "He locked that door – didn't he? DIDN'T HE?"

"He's not my friend –" Jamie grunted, but it was the wrong time to try and clarify. Bucky just growled and turned Jamie around, so his face was slammed into the glass instead of his back. "See her?" Bucky whispered, and Jamie caught sight of the woman he'd never gotten a name from. "That's my daughter – do you know her too?"

And Jamie should have denied it, but he was never a good liar.

"Well, I don't NOT know her," he tried, and Bucky growled and slammed Jamie into the window one more time before dropping Jamie like a bag of potatoes and hurtling towards the door, aiming to try again.

Bucky banged on the wood, and slammed his shoulder into that door, but it didn't budge.

The others had been switching their gaze from Bucky's frantic actions to the window, to Jamie, sprawled on the ground and rubbing his face, back to the window, where a lone figure could be seen battling on the now empty field.

"It won't budge," Bucky finally admitted.

"Plan B it is then," Aaron Rogers said, looking fiercer than he had any right to.

"What?" Steve looked at his son dumbly.

And then Aaron was making a mad dash for the window, not stopping the closer he got, until he was jumping – and then crashing through, the window breaking into pieces at the impact. Aaron fell almost two stories before he rolled and made contact with the ground below. It was only a moment before he was up again and running towards the field.

"Idiot," Max muttered.

And then Bucky was jumping through the window and following the same path Aaron had just taken.

"Idiots!" Max repeated. "All of them!" He shook his head slowly. He whirled on the rest of the patrons in the room.

"I know you're in shock!" He said quickly. "I am too – but if Jamie really does know that person on the field," He shot his partner a dark look, and Jamie raised his hands innocently.

"Never got a name, wasn't here when she went missing so I couldn't place her face either," He promised, and Max's eyes narrowed, and then he nodded and turned back to his friends – to his family.

"We'll get answers," He promised them. "But running into that fight like the other two idiots is suicide. However long JJ's been around, wherever's she's been, she's got experience with these things. Leave her to it, and we'll corner her when we're all out of danger."

"She's a lot closer to the danger than we are?" Stephen pointed out, and Max rolled his eyes.

"Yes, but she can handle herself. Y'all have either never been in a situation like this, or you're retired…so, stay put." He waited until he got a nod of acknowledgement from the entire room, then he shot an irritated look at his partner.

"Well?" He snapped. "I took care of these idiots. That means you get the runners." Jamie made a face, glared at the window, but then jumped before he could talk himself out of it.

The impact took the breath out of Jamie, and he gasped heavily.

"Hurry it up, Civilian," A low voice mocked, sounding as if someone were speaking right into his ear. But Jamie whipped his head and there was nobody nearby.

"Direct connection to the feeds, remember?" The dry voice reminded, and Jamie rolled his eyes.

Right. "How come I can only hear you?" He demanded.

"Your access is limited. Do your job, stop the runners from making a mess of things, and maybe I'll remove the restrictions – but probably not." Bruiser admitted honestly. "Hurry it up, Reagan, your runners are getting away."

Jamie growled and jumped to his feet, hurrying after Aaron Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

* * *

On the field, camera crews filmed excitedly as the gray beast fought the young woman one on one.

"I can't believe it!" An announcer gasped. "It looks like – but it can't be! Justice Barnes was declared dead two years ago!"

"But it is!" Another announcer spoke up. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are live: Justice Barnes, missing for three and a half years, and she's alive!"

"And currently fighting off a deadly beast!" An announcer sighed happily. "Our first Superhero since the Avengers, and it's the Prodigal Daughter!"

The camera's zoomed in, as Justice whirled and dodged, sparks of dark blue shooting from her hands.

Suddenly another man was at her side.

Thin and Blonde, gray eyes flashing, and wielding a stick that sparked ominously, the man joined Justice in the middle of the field, the two of them fighting together as if they'd been doing this for years.

After a few moments, a black mist materialized on JJ's other side, and a young man with dark hair and eyes as black as night stepped out of it, a sword in one hand. He joined the fight seamlessly, and the creature was overpowered.

That was when a second roar sounded from overhead.

The two newcomers left JJ to fight with the one monster, and they launched an attack on the new beast.

Jamie, running towards the two men who'd jumped through the window, jerked as a slew of voices could suddenly be heard.

"All in!" The female voice was tight, commanding. "Everyone in – now! We've got a third unfriendly on the way!"

And as soon as she'd spoke, a third roar could be heard.

The camera crews caught sight of two more figures appear, one literally breaking through the turf field to climb out of the ground. He shook the dirt out of his hair, twisted one wrist, and a dagger was in his hand. A moment later, a woman appeared as if out of thin air, wearing a purple suit, wings protruding from her back.

"I can't believe it," The announcer gasped. "Not only is Justice Barnes back from the dead and defending the people with her first return action, but she's somehow affiliated with Cassie Lang, another famous missing persons case!"

"Could the two cases be connected?" One announcer mused. "Are these two women two-fifths of a new team of Avengers?"

"So many questions, not enough answers, but man: what a show!"

Cassie Lang and the man at her side shared a look and then ran towards the third beast, and the fight waged on.

* * *

Jamie finally caught up with Bucky and Aaron on the side of the field.

He reached for each of their arms and flung them backwards, jumping in front of them to block their path with his body.

"You can't go out there!" He ordered.

"That's my daughter!" Bucky roared to be heard over the noise of the fight in front of them.

"Regardless!" Jamie tried to remain calm, even as Bucky stepped forward, arm raised to clobber him, and Aaron growled in encouragement. "You're only going to distract her and get her killed."

Jamie gripped Bucky and pulled him close. "You just found out your daughter is alive," He spoke quickly, "Do you want to be the reason she dies?"

Bucky shoved Jamie away from him, but he didn't try to run past him – an improvement.

"Mr. Barnes," Jamie said, raising a hand slowly. "I'm sorry."

"Idiot," a voice spoke in his ear almost fondly. "Did you forget what I shoved in your pockets?"

Jamie's eyes widened. "Listen," He said quickly. "That team out there? Your daughter is their leader. She's the one giving the orders, and if you distract her, she distracts them. I can give you the headpiece they're using to communicate, but you have to promise not to talk into them."

Aaron nodded immediately, but Bucky just squinted, his hands fisting at his side.

"I can't give you your daughter right this second," Jamie said lowly. "But I can give you her voice. Will you accept that, just until this is over?"

Bucky seemed to waver, but wasn't ready to agree.

"I was right," Jamie said suddenly. When Bucky made eye contact with Jamie, he continued. "Your daughter- she is brave. Incredibly brave, sir. I didn't know she was related to you until today, but now that I know, it makes all the sense in the world. Your daughter is a fighter – you said it yourself. So – let her fight. Listen in. And once she's won," Jamie smiled wryly, "And she always wins, you can see her…talk to her."

Bucky huffed, his shoulders slumping, but then he held out his hand, and victorious, Jamie handed over the comms.

"Hey." Max appeared, face flushed, next to the trio. "Are we done trying to rush to our doom?"

"For now," Aaron grumbled, but Max grinned and nodded.

"I'll take it. The rest of the group is waiting a safer distance away. Can I urge you to go wait with them?" He smiled cheekily. "I promise I'll let you storm the field as soon as the wee beasties are taken care of."

Bucky didn't look like he wanted to, but he let Max move him and Aaron out of the blast zone. Jamie watched them go, wanting to make sure they really did make it to safety, and then he charged towards the field.

The second Jamie's foot fell onto the other side of the foul lines, a sharp voice rang in his hear.

"Somebody get Reagan out of the blast zone before I MURDER him," she hissed. "NOW."

"Hate to ignore a direct order," another woman's voice, this one lighter, higher, "but we kind of need all the help we can get right now."

"Yeah, boss," A guy spoke up, breathing heavily. "These things are killing us. Doesn't Reagan have a gun? Guns would be helpful right about now."

"Reagan's a civilian until Monday," Jamie recognized Bruiser's voice, "and he's more of a hindrance than a help right now. The boss hardly needs to be distracted by her favorite damsel."

"Well, then do something about it, Bruiser," another voice spoke up, this one raspy. "the rest of us are a little busy."

"And I'm not?" Bruiser snapped back, but then Jamie found himself incapable of taking another step. "He's contained. Boss, I hate to make your least favorite suggestion, but it might be a good idea to uh, well, do the thing."

"Nope." The bosses' voice replied immediately.

"You know I would never willingly say this, but maybe Bruiser's right," the woman spoke up. "Three on five isn't exactly working out for us."

"I'm NOT doing the thing," she snapped. "You know the more often I use it, the more my position is broadcasted. What part of keeping a low-profile don't you understand?"

Jamie watched in horror as a gray beast swiped a large paw, and one of its claws sunk into the Bosses', into JJ's? stomach. The grunt of pain he heard made his throat tighten with worry.

"It's a little too late for the whole "low-profile thing, boss!" one of the guys yelled. "They drew first blood – just end this! Do the thing!"

"No!" The boss said adamantly, but then another claw struck her, sinking into her side this time, and Jamie found himself yelling in tandem with another voice he recognized, a voice he damn-well remembered telling to stay quiet, say

"JUST DO THE THING!"

And even the adamant way Jamie and Bucky yelled simultaneously didn't seem to be enough to sway the fighting woman's mind, at least not until the gray beast, as if he'd heard Jamie, whirled away from his opponents to begin to charge in Jamie's direction.

A low, feral growl sounded over the comms, and then a whooshing sound filled the air and Jamie looked up to see an object glinting in the sky.

It was a hammer, Jamie recognized, as the object drew closer.

His eyes widened when he realized it wasn't just A hammer, it was THE hammer.

And the hammer landed perfectly in one small, tanned hand. And as Jamie watched, the hand gripped the handle of the hammer, holding it as if it weighed nothing, the owner of that hand launching herself into the air, landing on the gray beasts back. One heavy swing later, and the beast running in Jamie's direction fell to the ground, dead.

The woman on the beasts back tumbled to the ground, rose to her knees, and threw the hammer in one large arc.

The hammer whirled through the air, ripping through the second beasts stomach before flying back to it's owner. Another quick throw, and the third beast was also collapsing to the ground, dead.

The woman, hair tangled around her head and no longer trapped with an elastic, panted heavily. The hammer fell into her open palm, and she stared down at it with a grimace before tossing it aside, taking a second to look over her injuries.

After a moment, Jamie found himself capable of moving forward, and he hurried towards the group of five standing in the middle of the field.

He heard the thundering footsteps behind him and huffed.

He didn't have to look back to know who else was hurrying forwards.

Jamie paused a few feet away, and the glare he shot behind him warned the others to do the same. They shot back glares of their own, but didn't move forward.

"Oh my God," Leila muttered in disbelief. "It's her."

"She's alive," Nicole Rogers gasped.

"This is impossible," Stephen shook his head.

"No." Steve's voice was hoarse, and there was enough misery in his tone to catch everyone's attention. "This is entirely possible – but nothing I would've wished on her."

Tony Stark's eyes widened. "You don't think," he murmured. "You don't think The Cage…"

"She couldn't have survived that," Clint shook his head. "Not alone – not for three and a half years.."

"Who said she was alone?" Steve asked with a speculative look at the woman kneeling by JJ's side.

"Three," Jamie said offhand, not realizing he'd spoken until he'd realized everyone was looking at him – again.

"Three what?" Marco hissed, seeking clarification. Jamie winced.

"Wherever she was, she was only there for three years," he said slowly. "She's been on Earth since June."

"And, how would you know this?" Max's dad raised an eyebrow.

"She," Jamie flushed and had to clear his throat. "She's been breaking into my apartment at least once a week since June," He admitted slowly.

"That's ridiculous," Aaron snorted. "Why would she break into a random stranger's apartment, and not even let her friends know she's alive? That she's back?" He shot a look at Bucky. "I mean, if not us, at least her parents."

Bucky wasn't paying any attention to the conversation, focused too intently on the woman still kneeling on the ground, glaring at the two new holes in her body.

"There's a reason," he muttered lowly. "There has to be." He looked blankly at Jamie, and knew the older man was recalling the conversation they'd been having not moments before.

 _"If I were her, I might take the opportunity to start over, without all the useless strings."_

Jamie could see in Bucky's face the way he finally realized… _he_ was a string too.

"Maybe there's not a reason," Bucky finally muttered.

"No," Jamie said suddenly. "Don't say that: You don't have all the facts yet."

Bucky shot a derisive look Jamie's way, but there must've been something in his face, because Bucky straightened, and his eyes flashed.

"You're right." He agreed. "I need answers." His gaze shot towards where JJ was now standing a few feet away from one of the beasts, eyes narrowed, hands on her hips. "And I know just where to get them.

Jamie followed Bucky as he marched towards the dirt-covered woman he'd been spending time with since June, and he let a wry smile grow on his face.

Whoever Bucky knew before she'd gone missing?

His daughter wasn't that now.

And while the others might not understand?

Jamie thought Bucky would get a kick out of it.

As long as she didn't openly reject HIM.

Which, Jamie's smile fell as quickly as it had grown, was entirely to possible.

He started walking a little faster.

* * *

 **JJ is BACK! Or...Is she? Tune in next week for two more chapters!**

 **Review/Follow/Favorite?**

 **~CLC~**


	4. Old Family

**UPDATE: Due to combining chapters, this is chapter five but is now the new content (chapter 6 technically), so everything will be as is from this point on.**

 **See Chapter One for Disclaimer**

* * *

Bucky's determined march forward paused when the woman hopped nimbly to her feet. A quick raise of her shirt showed two wounds, slowly knitting themselves back together. The woman let her shirt drop with a huff, her hands planting themselves on her hips as she surveyed the scene. She scanned the group of civilians dismissively, raised an eyebrow at Jamie, and then turned to focus on the gray beast in front of her.

"Bruiser?" She snapped, and at the sound of her voice, Bucky took a staggering step back.

Because Jamie had only known the woman in front of them as she was.

But Bucky's daughter had never spoken with a voice that confident, that deep or that rich. She spoke in clear, clipped tones, the vowels wasting no time falling off her tongue but weren't as rushed as she'd always spoken before. Even the way she held herself was different. JJ had always been a wiggler, always moving. This woman stood still, back straight and feet planted so firmly it was as if nothing would move her.

Bucky knew from that one word; from one glance, that whoever he was looking at, it wasn't JJ – not really.

But J or not, this was still his daughter. And so Bucky remained where he stood, not wanting to interrupt, with the hopes that observing the current conversation would help him understand this new person better.

"No casualties," the blonde man from before answered with a drawl, arms crossed. "Other than the two gaping holes in your stomach."

"Healing as we speak," she snapped, shooting the man a harsh glare that did little to sway the brit.

"Nothing beyond your usual carelessness," He finished with a raised eyebrow, and the woman huffed.

"Beta!" She withdrew her attention from the blonde man, and the tension left his shoulders. He caught sight of Bucky and the others though, and the tension returned.

The dark-haired woman Bucky vaguely remembered from the funeral stepped forward. Her long dark hair was mostly contained underneath a Yankee's baseball cap, hazel eyes almost afraid to look away from their audience. But a low growl had her hurrying towards her leader.

"Three level twelves," she reported quickly. "You were right, as always," the woman chuckled. "This was our worst yet. They're an undetermined species, but," Cassie Lang walked right up to one of the creatures, a glove-covered palm pressing into the beast's side. "They look like a hybrid of something we've seen before. I'll have to do more research," she shot a look towards the brunette, "on the only asset still in decent condition. Thanks for that, boss."

"One is better than nothing," the "Boss," pointed out. "Bones, take care of the corpses, why don't you?"

The dark-haired man, an Italian heritage practically seeping out of his pores, flicked long dark hair out of his eyes and grinned. His hands shot out, one palm pointed at each of the other two beasts. The man closed his eyes, a furrow appearing as he concentrated. With a low rumble, the ground underneath the beasts gave way, sinking into deep, earthy graves, the ground swallowing both beasts inch by inch.

After a few minutes, the beasts were completely covered, the ground looking as if it had never even been disturbed. The man shot the football player still sitting on his butt a grin. "Have fun playing your games with the knowledge that those things are buried under your feet," he snorted.

"Don't engage the locals," the boss snapped, and the man huffed and sullenly moved towards the dark haired woman that looked a long like Cassie Lang.

"Burns? Got anything to add?" The final person in the group, wearing loose jeans and a Harvard sweatshirt, was so busy staring in frozen shock at one of the people standing behind Bucky, that he didn't hear her, not until she turned, eyebrows narrowed, dark eyes flashing.

"BURNS," She repeated loudly, and the guy jumped. "Report!"

"I uh, got nothing to add about the," the man waved awkwardly, "the thing. Sorry."

"Distracted, are you?" She asked roughly, and he winced.

Bucky turned, interested to see what it was that had the kid so confused. He assumed Singer was the problem, seeing as Dean was the only one staring back, mouth dropped open in horrified recognition.

"Just uh," he winced. "Family drama. You know that feeling, am I right?" The guy laughed nervously.

The rest of the group instead shot incredulous looks his way. The Boss, eyebrow raised, snorted. "Is that supposed to be a joke?" She snapped. Irritated, she shot a glare towards Bucky and the others. When she didn't startle, when no spark of recognition sparked in her eyes, Bucky's stomach dropped.

"Bruiser!" she snapped. "Take care of the gawkers!"

Bucky shot a look towards the man who'd answered to the nickname "Bruiser" earlier, to the man who seemed to know who they were, and from the nauseous look on his face, was also aware of who they were to HER. He grimaced.

"I uh, can't do that."

Suddenly all of the woman's ire was focused on him, and he bravely stood up under the onslaught.

"Excuse me?" She asked, voice deceptively light. Bruiser swallowed heavily.

"If you would," he made a face, "Just take a closer look," he advised, and JJ whirled to glare at them.

Most of the Avengers, and the Supers as well, stood frozen, in the same positions they'd been in for the duration of this conversation.

Only Max shook himself out of his stupor at the sudden scrutiny they'd found themselves under. He smiled and waved.

"Hey JJ!" He greeted, and Jamie, only a foot behind Bucky, snorted.

Bucky himself couldn't help but smile at the way Max seemed to take everything in stride.

The Boss, on her point, simply lowered her brows and snorted.

"Wrong person," She said briskly. "You're confused." Max laughed.

"Pretty sure I'm not the confused one," He admitted, his voice just a little too high to be normal.

"I have full confidence that I'M not the confused one," she snapped. "So this is where we stand. What even is a JJ? Or do you just have a stutter?" Brown eyes widened. "Are you slow? Do you know what year it is?"

Max couldn't help himself. He burst into laughter. Loud, obnoxious, body-shaking laughter, his hands falling to his knees in an effort to keep upright, guffaws falling unchecked from his lips.

"This is why I don't deal with the civilians," She complained loudly over Max's laughter.

Civilians. The way she said the word was like a bucket of ice water, and Max suddenly ceased to find the situation funny.

Because she spoke as if she WEREN'T a civilian, as if she were a soldier. As if she were fighting a war, as if she had been for a long time.

"Not funny anymore?" The blonde man at JJ's side guessed, voice low and sympathetic. Max made a face and ignored the man.

"Stop it, JJ," Max scolded harshly. "This is serious."

Eyes narrowed and her head tilted, and her voice was frosty when she spoke.

"Who - the hell - is JJ?"

* * *

Steve's quick intake of breath meant Bucky wasn't the only one who'd recognized the phrasing.

It had been word for word, pause for effect included, exactly as Bucky had said it to Steve, years ago.

A lifetime ago, really.

* * *

"You are." It took Bucky a second to realize it had been he that had spoken. He looked deep into brown eyes and took a step forward, and then another.

Her eyes narrowed, but she let him approach.

Bucky was three feet away, than two feet away, then only one foot separated him from his daughter.

"You're JJ." He said. He looked at the blonde man, who simply closed his eyes and nodded in permission.

Bucky cleared his throat and spoke more confidently. "You're JJ. You're my daughter."

The look she shot towards Bruiser was incredulous. Bruiser simply shrugged.

"Well." She looked back at Bucky. She looked at the others. She looked at Jamie. Then she laughed.

The laugh was derisive, throaty and low.

"Well." She said again. "Damn."

Jamie watched the group in front of him.

* * *

The older women, Mrs. Rogers, Mrs. Holmes, Mrs. Stark, looked grief-stricken, relief warping into worry the longer JJ stared at them blankly. The men just blinked slowly or stared at Bucky, as if attempting to take their cues from him, but Bucky too, was frozen.

Leila Barton and Rhiannon Odinson had collapsed within themselves, tears falling freely, holding tightly to their boyfriends. Marco, Stephen, and Ben seemed confused more than anything. Aaron Rogers, looked, surprisingly, irritated.

His best friend was alive. Why did he look so pissed off?

Xander Odinson, still planted on the ground, didn't look away from JJ, eyes wide, cataloguing.

Max was doing the same thing Jamie was; observing his friends and family, coming to his own conclusions. He nodded firmly, as if he'd made a decision. Then he raised his hand.

"Sorry to interrupt the awkward staring match," Max smiled innocently. "I just have a quick question."

"Just one?" she snorted, and Max's eyes brightened.

"Maybe more than one," he admitted.

The look Max received for his honesty was less cold and more curious. "You're not my father too, right?" She asked seriously, and Max snorted.

"No." He shook his head. "Not even a little bit."

"Fine." She nodded curtly. "What?"

Max took a deep breath. Then he started pointing. "What the hell's going on? Why don't you recognize us? Who are they? What are you doing here? How did you get here? Where have you been? How come you don't recognize us? Did you get taller? What's that thing? Is the blonde guy your boyfriend? Is it true that you're the chick breaking into Jamie's apartment? Does JAMIE know that guy's your boyfriend? Does your boyfriend know you're breaking into Jamie's apartment? What's up with you not knowing who I am? I get forgetting the rest of them – but how do you forget this?" And Max's sudden whirlwind of questions ceased as he struck a pose and smiled charmingly.

Instead of an answer, Max got a slow blink. Then she spoke, but not to Max. "Your partner is certifiable, Reagan."

It was the first time Jamie had been acknowledged directly, and in response Jamie just shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled slightly.

"Gonna answer any of his questions?" He asked.

His favorite thief just shot him an incredulous look. "No." She said flatly. She turned towards Bruiser. "I blame you," She glared. "Fix it." And in between one blink and the next, she was gone.

* * *

Suddenly, The Avengers and the Supers were left staring at a cast of characters none of them recognized. For just a second, they could pretend that JJ had never been there, that it had all been a strange, group hallucination. But then Bruiser sighed.

"On behalf of the woman we all simply refer to as The Boss, allow me to apologize. My name is Draco Malfoy, and I am her representation. Please understand, she does not know you, any of you."

"Amnesia?" Stephen asked disbelievingly and Draco Malfoy shrugged.

"As surprising as it may sound, yes. She is no longer able to access any memories, of who she was, of her past, of you. And it is my regret to inform you that she has no desire to pursue filling those holes. The JJ Barnes you knew and loved is dead. The Boss may look similar, but she is very different. She has moved on. And I highly advise that you all do the same."

"So," Aaron stepped forward, fists clenched. "You're saying she doesn't remember us, and doesn't want to, and that we should be okay with that? That we should pretend we never saw her?"

Draco Malfoy nodded curtly. "I'm glad you understand me." He turned to the other four and motioned for them to move close to him, preparing to exit.

Aaron watched the strange group form a small circle. And before he could stop himself, he spoke.

"Not happening."

Draco turned slowly to Aaron, eyes narrowing.

"She's alive." Aaron argued. "My best friend is alive. I'm not forgetting that, and I'm not leaving it alone."

Malfoy's eyes remained narrowed, face impassive, for a few moments. Then he smiled.

"Well then," he shrugged lightly. "I guess what happens next, falls on your head.

And with a loud pop and a gust of wind, Malfoy and his buddies were gone.

* * *

"Right." Jamie avoided the many pairs of eyes now staring, (more glaring, really) him down. Instead, he shot a wry smile towards his partner. "See you Monday." Jamie strode away from the loud group shouting questions at his back, slipping through the crowd of reporters and camera men now rushing towards the group he was avoiding.

As a fairly unknown face, he was mostly ignored.

This was a good thing, as it gave him time to escape.

While the Avengers were still trying to shove their way through the crowd, Jamie was sliding into a taxi and directing it towards the airport, hoping against hope that his apartment would be broken into later that night.

* * *

It's two weeks later, when January has bled into February and little red hearts are hanging around the break room of precinct twelve, that Jamie sees her next.

He sees her before he sees his partner, who has been mysteriously absent on an impromptu "sabbatical", but is set to return that very day, and he sees her first.

But before he sees her, he sees his sister.

"Hey, Jamie!"

Jamie is the first to admit that his older sister isn't hideous. She's regal, tall and slim and made for the skirts and blouses she wears on the daily, her dark hair straight and short and confident.

Everything about his sister, Jamie realizes, is confident. From her tall heels to her smile to the cut of her hair.

Erin Reagan's confidence is flawless. It made Jamie wilt slightly in his scuffed work boots.

But he shot his sister a half-smile, the best he can do these days, and paused in the middle of the crowded office.

"Sis," He greeted, eyebrow raised. "What are you doing down here in the slums?"

Erin smacked her brothers forearm. "Looking for you, silly. I was going to ask if you wanted to get lunch, but," A small smirk appeared on Erin's face, and it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Looks like somebody's got a new lunch buddy they haven't mentioned.

Jamie's eyes narrowed, because what was Erin talking about? But Erin laughed, smile wide. "I'm talking about the pretty woman waiting for you at your desk," She rolled her eyes. "But fine – don't tell me about her. I'll just mention it at lunch next Sunday and let the rest of the Reagan's loose on you."

* * *

Erin Reagan was very serious. Her baby brother's heart was fragile, and had been broken before. No woman would get close enough to do so again without her say so. But Jamie wasn't afraid of his sister's veiled threat – because the only woman he'd been dealing with recently had been the one he'd been looking for, for two weeks, and SHE had found him. Jamie, always the polite brother, patted his sister's arm in dismissal. "She's certainly something, isn't she?" He agreed, before stepping past her and widening his steps.

Erin frowned at her brothers back.

She had been teasing, she admitted to herself. But the way Jamie's face had brightened and the speed with which he'd run off – well.

Maybe Erin WOULD have to mention something next Sunday.

* * *

Jamie rounded the corner of the station at full speed, and stopped so quickly he was sure he left skid marks on the carpet.

Because there was a woman at Jamie's desk.

Erin hadn't been wrong about that.

But Jamie had been hoping for a specific woman – even though it had been a stupid thought.

Other than the football stadium two weeks ago, Jamie had only ever seen this woman in the shadows of his apartment, with the light filtering in from his window and the brightness of his TV screen, leaving the woman always shrouded in shadows.

Even at the football stadium, she'd been covered in dirt and ripped clothing, and everything had happened so quickly he spent too little of his time watching her.

But it was her.

She was – compact, Jamie realized in surprise.

Her voice was deep and low and throaty, and her presence alone filled a room, but physically, she was – compact, was the best word for it.

There wasn't a lot of height to her, and she was all slim limbs and toned muscles. The light washed jeans she wore hugged her muscular thighs and then flared out at the knees. Tiny feet were encased in black Nikes, matching the black cotton t-shirt that hugged her chest, (the only part of her body with real weight to her,) before tucking loosely into the band of her jeans.

One small sneakered foot swung lazily, the other resting on his desk, where she had made herself comfortable, a stack of manila folders spread out on her lap.

Jamie looked away from the woman sitting on his desk to raise an eyebrow at his partner.

* * *

Despite the "sabbatical," Max looked wan, the circles under his eyes bruised purple. His eyes were wide in shock, and he stood less than a foot away from the woman, his eyes wide and unblinking.

She didn't seem to notice, one finger curling absentmindedly into the end of her loose ponytail as she read.

But then Max raised a finger to poke her cheek, and quick as lightning, she was cocking her fist back and then aiming it at his face.

With a loud half-grunt, half-scream, Max dropped to the ground like a bag of rocks.

She shot him one unimpressed look, Jamie noticed, before returning to the file she was reading.

And even as Jamie lurched forward to help his fallen comrade, he began to chuckle.

Because the package she came in was vastly deceiving.

And Jamie was thoroughly enjoying watching the consequences of those who underestimated her.

A quick look at Max's face and a wince later, and Jamie was making a mental note to never do so himself.

Because the consequences were not pretty, and Jamie was pretty sure that Max wasn't anymore, either.

* * *

"JJ Barnes sounds like a tool."

Brown eyes snapped away from the articles in her hand to gaze challengingly in Max's direction. "She either has no personality and no opinions of her own, or she's so eager to please that she lit herself on fire to keep everyone else warm."

She threw down one article to pick up another. "I'll give credit where credit is due, the girl has all the potential in the world to be a badass: graduated with honors, so she's smart, worked three jobs, so she's got drive, and her work ethic is on point," an eyebrow raised, "Both things I have in abundance." She shook her head. "But she takes everything that made her stand out and buried it in a deep dark hole. And these poor idiots," A picture fluttered to the floor, and Max's breath hitched as he recognized it.

It was at Graduation, and tired and weary JJ Barnes was standing with one arm wrapped around her boyfriend's waist and the other hand gripping her best friend's forearm. Xander and Aaron both wore similar looks of joy, but JJ's smile was weak. The rest of JJ and Max's friend group surrounded her on either side.

Max was on the very end, on the right side of the picture. He was smiling, but his eyes looked worried. Max was surprised, looking back at the photo. He hadn't known his worry was showing. But again, JJ's smile hadn't looked so weary back then either.

"These poor idiots handed her the shovel, and then stomped on the dirt to make it look like nothing had been disturbed." She huffed. "And they didn't even realize. She did though. She's smart, she knew. And she let it happen."

Another picture joined the other on the ground.

Max blinked.

It was a candid, a photo of JJ from the side, in a rare moment of real joy. She'd been caught mid-laugh, head thrown back and grin wide. The sun had been setting, and she looked angelic, the rays of sunlight catching the sparkle in her eyes and the deep chestnut of her hair.

Max knew exactly when that photo had been taken.

June, 2015. The last day of Junior year. One day before the Avengers had returned.

Max knew that, because he'd taken that photo.

Jamie blinked.

The picture that had fallen on the ground was the JJ Barnes he'd been researching the last two weeks.

The picture that had fallen on the ground was of a woman he didn't know.

He looked up to find her watching him, her brown eyes intense. "She was a wolf masquerading in sheep's clothing. The only sheep I'm wearing is the lining in my jacket." She let a few articles fall to the ground, covering the photos she'd dropped.

She hesitated for a moment, gripping the only clipping left tightly, but then she sighed, and let it drop.

"And by God, did this woman not believe in self-preservation?"

Max's breath caught, and Jamie knew what article had hit the ground before even having to look down.

Jamie might've missed the first run, so deep was he undercover at the time, but after the half-time show he'd witnessed, Jamie had gone home and fired up his laptop.

Google did not disappoint.

"Despite everything," Her voice was light, "that leg still aches when it rains."

Those words finally pushed Max into speaking.

"You shouldn't speak ill of the dead."

Her response was to snort, legs uncrossing, sneakered feet falling to the floor. Her arms crossed. "So you're saying I'm NOT her?" One foot stepped purposefully onto the stack of papers. "After I did all this research?"

"Yeah," Max smiled slightly. "Because it was so hard to break into Reagans locked drawer and taking a peek at the file he's probably been compiling for the last two weeks."

Jamie's eyebrows furrowed, and he lurched forward to check, and – yes, there was the locked drawer he reserved for the important cases, lock broken and hanging open, files hanging out.

"Did you grow up in a barn?" Jamie grumbled, attempting to undo her damage.

He heard a snort behind him. "Apparently not." He heard rustling clatters, but before he could turn, an article was in front of his face. "This says I grew up in a palace." Jamie snatched the article and there she was, inches from his face.

The candid photo from before suddenly came to mind.

Same brown eyes. Same dark hair, same features: but the eyes were shadowed and the smile had become a smirk.

"JJ," Jamie said softly. He tried it again. "JJ."

Her nose wrinkled. "It doesn't feel right anymore," she admitted, her voice just as soft as his had been. Then suddenly her voice was hardening. "You knew about this?"

"I was overseas," He admitted quickly. "I missed all of it." Eyes narrowed, but then she sat up suddenly, and Jamie was rearing back as she sat upright.

"Watson." Max straightened as she addressed him. "You knew this tool. Is she really as uninteresting as they say?"

"She was," Max made a face. "YOU, were everything these articles say, and more. You were everyone's best friend. We all loved you."

"So I was a fake," She said flatly.

"You weren't," Max shook his head.

"And you're a liar." She finally vacated the desk, moving into Max's space. "One person can't be liked by everyone unless they're fake."

Max laughed suddenly. "Well, there were a lot of times when we didn't particularly LIKE you," Max admitted. He smiled. "But we've been friends for years, been through a lot. There was a lot of love there."

"Well," She shook her head. "I hate to break it to you, but this woman died two years ago." She made eye contact. "I'm not that woman."

It Max a second, but then he nodded. "I know," He agreed. "JJ doesn't fit anymore."

"Well then. What are we supposed to call you then?"

And before, when it had been Max asking the hard questions and she didn't want to answer them, she'd turned to Jamie, a trend that made Jamie feel important, and useful.

It was a trend he would not mind continuing.

But he was also aware that times were changing and he would have to start sharing. So he sighed, and raised an eyebrow. "I think it's time," he finally admitted.

"I don't know what's with you normal people and insisting on my having a name, but for the last few months I've been existing under the alias Jen." She made a face. "With a G."

"Gen." Max said it slowly, letting the one syllable rest for a moment on his tongue. It was a one letter longer and one syllable shorter than JJ. JJ and Gen were two different names, for two different people…and it fit.

"Gen it is." Max nodded resolutely.

"Well if it's all the same to you, I'm going to stick with Kid."

The trio turned, Max, Jamie, and Gen, to watch Bucky Barnes approached them, his face blank. "You know, seeing as you're my daughter."

"Biologically, maybe." The newly named Gen retorted quickly. "But I don't remember you." She pointed at Max. "And I don't remember him. We're strangers."

"Let me guess." Bucky tilted his head. "You'd like to keep it that way."

Her jaw twitched. She fidgeted slightly, her hands clenching and unclenching before crossing over her chest. Jamie was surprised: He'd never seen her so unsettled.

"It would be easier that way," She grumbled after a moment.

Her visible unease did something for Bucky, who'd come in looking for a fight and instead finding that his daughter had a lot of bravado – except for when it came to him.

Well, Bucky wasn't afraid to capitialize on that.

"Sure." He agreed immediately. "But my daughter has never been afraid of a little hard work." He raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me that's changed too."

She huffed. "It's probably the only thing I have in common with your beloved child."

Bucky smiled slowly. "Somehow, I doubt that. He tossed her a thick piece of paper. "That's my address," he confirmed. "We'll settle this over dinner tomorrow."

And though Bucky was strong, and he had promised himself he'd keep his distance, he found himself reaching forward to wrap an arm around one small wrist.

"Bring a friend," He said lowly, knowing having backup would make it more likely that she would appear. "Or two," He shot a look at Jamie, who flushed.

She didn't nod, didn't agree, simply stared at the man in front of her until he sent her one last smile and left. Then she turned to look at Jamie.

He opened his mouth; to offer platitudes, maybe some encouragement, but she shook her head, and he stayed silent. She seemed content to stare at him, and so he let her.

Max watched uncomfortably, unsure of exactly what was going on. Finally, he coughed. "I'm going to uh, go," he looked around frantically before bending down to shove the files into his arms. "Wash these. I'll be back…later." He left the two alone to continue staring awkwardly at each other, which they happily did for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Finally, she huffed. "I need a drink," she announced, spinning on her feet and marching away. Jamie blinked, watching her disappear into the throng. Then he went to go find his partner.

* * *

 **JJ is gone - Gen has arrived. But how different are the two? And how similar?**

 **Review/Follow/Favorite?**

 **~CLC~**


	5. New Friends

**See Chapter One for Disclaimer**

* * *

"So how was your sabbatical?"

The filthy look Max shot Jamie's way was surprising.

"That bad?" He guessed, and Max snorted, slouched grumpily on the park bench he had commandeered, arms crossed over his chest.

"Whatever you qualify as "not bad" it was that." He shook his head slowly. "times four thousand and sixty two."

Jamie smiled wryly and plopped held out a homemade sandwich wrapped in tin foil, and his partner straightened and snatched the food from Jamie's hand. "Hanging out with the extended family not so fun?" He said wryly.

"It used to be blast," Max admitted after a moment. "But that was –"

"High school?" Jamie tried, and Max shrugged.

"We tried to keep in touch, but it was just awkward. You saw how it was at the game?"

Jamie snorted. "How could I not?" He admitted wryly. "Your friends are good actors, but I was undercover for a long time." Jamie thought of the long years learning how to read people under pressure, and he tried to hide a shudder. "Those people are ready to pop."

Max laughed tiredly, ripping his sandwich into pieces instead of eating it. "My friends have been asked to do a reality TV show," he finally said, and Jamie raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yeah," Max shook his head. "The producers want to follow our daily lives."

"Our?" Jamie made a face, realizing where this conversation was going.

"Yep. The main cast of the show would be Aaron, Marco, Leila, and Rhiannon, but they want the rest of the Supers to guest star as often as possible." Max rolled his eyes, speaking through the mouthful of sandwich he was working on chewing. "The show wants to show a group of highly attractive, very successful, extremely famous young adults who have a fair bit of drama in their life, who have been friends since high school."

Jamie tried not to laugh, but he lost the battle. "Are they aware that you and your friends haven't spoken with each other in years?"

"Have you ever seen a reality tv show?" Max snorted. "They don't want to show how we never speak: they want us to be fake."

"Well." Jamie thought about what he was going to say next, then shrugged. "Your friends won't have a problem with that. But you, my friend, are about as real as it gets."

"Exactly: which is why I was never supposed to have more than a passing role in the show."

The word "WAS" made warning bells ring in Jamie's head.

"But because of the half-time show," Jamie began slowly, and Max nodded wearily.

"They want to move me up to co-star."

"But," Jamie made a face. "You said no, right?"

"Of course I did!" Max burst out, but than a guilty look spread across his face. Jamie's eyes widened, and before he could begin accussing his friend of being a sellout, Max spoke again. "YOU try being kidnapped by your high school friends and held in a mansion until you agree!"

"Dad is never going to go for this," Jamie shook his head.

"They can't follow me at work," Max finally sighed. "I gave in to the deal on day three. The rest of my sabbatical was spent in negotiations."

"So – I don't have to be in this thing, right?" Jamie narrowed his eyes, and Max pulled out a stack of papers.

"You don't have to," He began slowly, his eyes widening and lip poking out. "But I could really use some backup…"

And Jamie fought with himself for almost a whole minute, but then he sighed and held out his hands, and Max beamed at him and handed over the papers, and Jamie looked down and read the title with a grimace.

"The Super Life?" He said distastefully, and Max showed his first genuine smile of the day.

"Horrible isn't it?" Max watched Jamie read over the papers, and poking his cheek, the smile fell.

"Now," He began slowly. "It was funny when you were smitten over a random lady." Jamie slowly looked up at his usually cheery friend, wary of Max's focused, strangely serious gaze. "But my best friend from high school? Once thought dead, now alive, probably fragile and changed from the memory loss and whatever horrible things she's had to experience?" Max slowly shook his head.

"My dear friend, we have ourselves a situation."

* * *

Cassie leaned back in her chair, nursing the whiskey in front of her as she listened to her friends chat, thinking back to the day that this ragtag group had first stumbled into the bar they sat at.

After the funeral, it had taken Draco Malfoy, the blonde British man whose "magical" tendancies Cassie wasn't supposed to know about, about four days to find a third alumni.

During those three weeks Cassie had pretended that everything was fine.

" _Emotions are like the river. Always changing, never constant. Try to make them your foundation is like throwing a twig on the waves and believing that that twig will still be there an hour later. Don't be an idiot Lang. Now rip the thing's heart out so we won't starve to death."_

When Cassie had first landed in the cage, she'd spent two days alone, fighting to survive and braving the dangers she'd been faced with all by her own strength. She didn't learn until later that those two days had been a test.

" _You survive the first 48 hours, and then I can show you the ropes. You don't make it that long here, you don't deserve to live."_

On day three, **SHE** had shown up, looking fierce and like some warrior princess, and Cassie had been worried that the woman would kill her, but when she hadn't, and instead had saved her from a creepy beast that Cassie wouldn't have been able to fight off on her own, well.

Cassie had cried.

The woman had rolled her eyes, muttered "Why do they always do that?" And then showed Cassie how to make shelter and find food.

She refused to do anything for Cassie, instead showing Cassie how to do for herself, only stepping in if Cassie were seconds away from killing herself by eating the wrong fruits or stepping right into a jaguar's home.

Cassie survived the Cage for two days on her own, and the next nine weeks and five days with her help.

And the whole time, Cassie learned very little about her protector.

There was no name, no talk of pasts or friends left behind, or how she got there.

She had not seemed willing to share.

And Cassie had been afraid to ask.

So ten weeks in exactly, when she had tilted her head and said, "I can send you home today, if you like," Cassie had only been brave enough to shakily ask,

"Aren't you coming too?"

"What for?" A dark eyebrow raised, and Cassie made a face.

"Don't you have friends? Family? Why would you want to stay here?"

And Cassie had gotten more information out of her in just a few sentences than Cassie had gotten the entire time she'd been caged.

"This place is all I know. Maybe I've been here my whole life. Maybe I don't have friends, or family. Maybe I never did. But I'd much rather the battle I know."

And there had been a large flash of light of Cassie was stumbling, momentarily blind, and then falling, and then loud honking deafened her and Cassie fell unconscious.

* * *

She woke up hours later in a hospital bed, mom and stepdad on one side, dad on the other, and a tall blonde man that looked remarkably familiar but very tired, and Cassie was confused.

Then the man had started speaking urgently.

"Was she there? Did you see her? Was it the cage? Was she alright?"

The confusion faded and Cassie's eyes filled with tears, and a sudden loud beeping brought in a flurry of white coats and the man was ushered out of the room, still shouting questions.

Cassie let the white coats descend on her, distraught.

She was finally home. She'd survived.

But she'd left the woman who'd saved her life behind.

It was at the funeral that Cassie learned she was not the first person to have entered the cage and returned. With Draco Malfoy's help, they'd found more survivors, some who'd recovered rather well from the ordeal, and many others who – did not.

And the woman seated to Cassie's left, the rest of the table occupied by Malfoy, another blonde man, and an Italian man who looked remarkably similar to the woman, weren't just alumni.

They were the elite. The ones who'd lasted the longest, who'd lasted months, instead of days.

And –

Cassie brightened and straightened in her seat as she noticed the brunette woman striding towards them.

Cassie's protector, the same woman who'd been with Malfoy, and with the others, was headed over.

She'd saved them all.

* * *

Cassie had always wondered at the Bosses' former identity. And finally, as of two weeks ago, her guess had been confirmed.

JJ Barnes took the only empty seat and stole Malfoy's drink, swallowing it all in one go. She shot the table a glare, her back straight and stiff, her mouth pinched. She maintained the look for a few moments, and then she sighed, slouching down into the chair and relaxing her face, melting into a posture of weariness.

"Well." Malfoy made a face and his glass refilled. "It has been a week, hasn't it?"

Malfoy's dry sense of humor broke the awkward tension, and the group laughed.

Their leader simply rolled her eyes and drank again from Malfoy's glass.

"Well." She snarked. "You're not wrong."

"So are we NOW allowed to address the elephant in the room?"'

The question, asked lightly, made the brunette snort and shoot the man who'd asked a raised eyebrow. "Yes – I'd love to know how exactly you knew one of the civilians at our last all-team meet."

Cassie smirked at how the tables had been so neatly turned, her shoulders relaxing, because while the rest of the team had the snark down pretty well, their leader was the one who had taught them.

"Well unlike SOME people, I actually googled myself when I got back. The guy who was staring at me like he'd seen a ghost? He actually kind of did."

Brown eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Enjoying having the upper hand for once, the blonde man stretched, blue eyes filled with mirth. "You see," He drew out the two words for an impossibly long time, and Cassie snorted when brown eyes rolled and then turned to Malfoy.

"Explain faster," She demanded, and Malfoy smirked.

"Dean Winchester, current alias Dean Singer, is a former hunter of the supernatural and current physician, located in New York City. He and Adam have the same biological father."

"Oh right; the family drama."

"Yep. I've never actually met the guy," Adam admitted easily.

"Is this the story about the ghouls killing you and your mom and then using your bodies to fool the Winchesters into thinking you're still alive?" The Italian at the end of the table spoke up, and Adam rolled his eyes.

"No wait," Cassie grinned at the woman seated next to her as her dark eyes narrowed. "This is the story about how you let an angel possess you and then y'all got drop-kicked into The Cage? Well," The woman smirked, "the other cage?"

"You've gotta stop letting strange things inside you," Cassie admonished, because she couldn't help herself, and the group laughed loudly.

"You guys suck," Adam's bottom lip poked out and his arms crossed over his chest. "Anyway, I least I had the foresight to look my history up, so I wasn't caught by surprise." Adam raised an eyebrow pointedly, and their boss snorted.

"Why would I waste my time with that when I have Bruiser to do it for me?" She said reasonably, and, point made.

"Anyway," she continued, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure you all looked me up as well?"

"First thing when I got home," The Italian admitted. He grinned. "Sera and I even updated your wikipedia page for you."

"Were you the one that added the blurb about having been resurrected by a snake lord?" Cassie leaned forward. "Because that was –" She caught the look on the bosses face and trailed off awkwardly, "wrong…very wrong of you."

"So can we call you JJ?" Adam asked.

"Do you want to die?" was the response Adam got, and knowing who he was speaking to, he grimaced.

"So that's a no."

"Is there any part of your name that you'd be comfortable with?" The woman pressed. "You're the one who named us in the Cage, who advised us to separate our identities from the actions we would be forced to take while we were trapped."

"I didn't say that." Malfoy snorted at the quick, harsh reply she gave.

"You did," He argued, leaning forward. Their team knew that when it came to getting their bullheaded leader to listen, it was always best coming from Malfoy. "You told us to save our real names for our real lives, that it would be easier to be who we used to if we could rationalize that Malfoy didn't kill a ghoul that looked like his mother, Bruiser did that. You're situation is different, but not entirely. If you're always going to be the boss, you'll never readjust. So pick up your old name, find a new one, it doesn't matter. But take your own advice and move on."

Brown eyes narrowed and lips pinched tightly, and the table waited.

Finally their boss sighed deeply. "JJ is a child's name, and Justice is hardly an ideal I hold dear to. But blood is thick, and before the cage I was a Barnes and in the cage I was a Barnes, and still now, I am a Barnes. I always will be, and I won't forsake that now. As for the first, Gen has been doing pretty well for me so far, I think I'll stick with that for a while. She smirked. "Besides, my biological father is the only individual from my past that I can stand."

The table shook as five people leaned forward eyes wide.

"Wait, you actually talked to your dad?!" Cassie and Gemma said together.

"Why was this not the first thing you said?" Adam added. "This is huge! Is he nice?"

"No." Gen pulled her brown hair into a ponytail with a grimace. "He spoke defiantly, boldly, as if his word were law. He just barged into my conversation without regard for any social graces and ordered me about, not waiting for a response before storming off, as if I would obey without question. He was very brusque, and quite rude." She made a face. "I just described myself, didn't I?"

"Word for word," The Italian admitted with a grin.

"Well, he is your father," Cassie pointed out. "You're bound to find similarities between the two of you, and even if you'd rather not interact with your old friends, you should at least make an effort with him."

"And don't kill him," Malfoy said seriously, and Gen's eyes widened innocently.

"That thought hasn't crossed my mind ONCE – in the last hour," She said hotly, and Malfoy rolled his eyes while the others snickered.

"I know you think eliminating the source of the problem is always a rational choice, but it's the opposite of rational, and murder is not the answer."

"Well, I never thought I'd hear that coming from you, Malfoy."

The new voice had Malfoy stiffening, his loose body language suddenly tightening until his spine was stick straight and his mouth was pinched into a tight line. He turned slightly to glare at the red-head behind him, raising an eyebrow.

* * *

Gen smirked into the whiskey she'd stolen from Cassie and the others watched excitedly.

"Weasley. How's the divorce?" Malfoy asked silkily, and the red-head's face turned a shade that matched his hair almost exactly.

"Come on guys," A guy with a black mop of hair and glasses appeared at the red-heads side. "Can't we keep this civil?"

"HE started it," the red-head began, just as Malfoy was saying, "And what's the fun in that?"

The man just sighed tiredly and rolled his eyes. "Malfoy. We'll leave you to your," Green eyes narrowed behind their glasses when they caught sight of Gen, sipping her whiskey slowly. "Don't I know you?"

"Oh?" She said lightly, though her eyes twinkled. "Were you at the Auror training session where I set that guys crotch on fire?" Green eyes narrowed but the man shook his head slowly.

"Hmm," Gen tilted her head, still trying to look innocent, mostly failing. "Then you must've been present that one time some idiot tried to obliviate me, and I made one of his appendages disappear?" She suddenly grinned wickedly. "You can probably guess which one."

"That was YOU?" The red-head asked disbelievingly even as the other man shook his head again.

"Nope, that's not it," he said, taking a small noticeable step back.

Gen grinned and winked at Malfoy, who was just watching her, eyes narrowed.

"Well then, I just don't know where we could have met," she drawled slowly, adopting an accent similar to Malfoy's and the black haired man's eyes widened in recognition.

"You were having tea with Hermione a few weeks ago."

"Oh yeah," Gen grimaced.

"Why were you having tea with Granger?" Malfoy asked dangerously.

"Just trying to keep Muggle-Wizard relations civil, dragon," she said lightly.

From the sound that came out of the red-head's throat, Cassie was suddenly worried that the man had almost just swallowed his own tongue.

"Your friends…are muggles?" The word "friends" and "Muggles" were said with the same tone of disbelief, as if Malfoy couldn't POSSIBLY have friends, let alone MUGGLE friends.

"Introduce us, Malfoy," Adam piped up. "Before the ginger spontaneously combusts."

To be fair, the guy seemed moments from a heart attack. Malfoy just sighed heavily. "Potter, Weasley," he sneered, "This is Adam Winchester, Cassie Lang, and Lorenzo and Serafina Di Angelo." He sniffed. "They're muggles who've been granted clearance, so put away your wand," He snapped suddenly.

"Keep in mind the last time someone tried to Obliviate me," Barnes added sweetly, and Potter grimaced and put his wand away.

"Who're you?" Potter asked a little harshly. "Malfoy here didn't mention your name."

"So he didn't." Gen nodded and stood. "Maybe he did that on purpose," She raised an eyebrow. "But since you asked so nicely; I'm Barnes – Gen Barnes." She clapped her hands, and the previously dark and dank bar suddenly lit up so brightly everyone went momentarily blind. When the darkness snuck back in, Potters eyes were blown wide, the red-head looked just as shocked, and Malfoy stared at them smugly, chin tilted haughtily.

Gen smirked. "You can leave now," She ordered, and the two men stumbled away.

"I love it when you intimidate people without moving a muscle," Lorenzo grinned. "But as entertaining as that was, can we go back to the part where you should give your father a chance?"

"Can we NOT go back and talk about something other than me?" She snapped, but her team, her friends, simply waited, and she sighed heavily.

"I'm not an emotionless robot, you know," She said hotly, and Cassie laughed.

"You could've fooled me," Serafina said dryly.

"What I'm trying to say," Gen made a face, "Is that he invited me to dinner tomorrow night, and I said I'd go."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"It can't be THAT shocking," She complained, and the others laughed.

"You're willingly eating with a real person," Adam pointed out. "The world is ending."

"It IS a little surprising," Cassie admitted. "You've refused to even google yourself for the last six months, and now you're having dinner with a blood relation? Major progress, Boss."

"It's not THAT much progress," She muttered. "I'm bringing back-up."

Malfoy looked around the table. "Not one of us, surely?" He guessed and Gen shook her head. Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "You're not bringing who I think you're bringing, right?"

Gen made a face. "I do what I want," she snapped, and Malfoy huffed.

"You're getting too attached." He warned. "You need to untangle yourself now before you get too entwined."

"Ha!" Gen finished her drink and stood from the table. She shot Malfoy a look.

"It's already too late for that."

* * *

"This is a bad idea."

"They can't enter the station, they're not allowed to accompany us on patrols or cases, the most they're going to get is to catch footage of any injuries we sustain, which won't tell them much. Our jobs won't be compromised."

"Oh really?" Jamie's dad raised an eyebrow, his hands folded on top of his desk. And Jamie, despite the fact that the commissioner in front of him was also his father, shifted in the chair he sat in, uncomfortably intimidated. "So the fact that you're letting your partner move in with you won't put you at odds with our source, who prefers to speak with you only when you are alone in your own private space, which is now no longer private?"

Jamie's brow furrowed. "So you're not upset about showing up on a reality tv show?" He asked confused.

"Why would I be?" His dad shrugged. "It's your life."

"There's a chance they might film Sunday dinners."

"And?" One bushy eyebrow raised.

"You're just worried that my thief won't want to share information with me anymore?" Jamie clarified, absolutely confused.

"Your thief," The commissioner emphasized the word "your" with a small smile, "Is the only advanced notice we get. It would not do to alienate her, for the department, or for you."

Jamie flushed. "It's not like that," He tried to say, but it was a lie. And his dad knew it. "I'll talk to her about it," he finally sighed. "If she's not okay with it, I won't do it."

"Good." Frank Reagan slipped from commissioner to father so seamlessly, Jamie would've missed the change, had he not been so used to it. "And has her identity been confirmed?"

"You mean is my thief JJ Barnes?" Jamie sighed, his shoulders falling. "Biologically, yes. But she has no memory of anything, and from what Watson says, she's nothing like she was. If you're hoping she's still the politically savvy princess she was before she disappeared, you're out of luck."

Reagan considered his son, who'd said "politically savvy princess" like it was a bad thing, and smiled.

"We have offices full of politically savvy," Reagan said lightly. "We have more need of who she is now, than what she was. I daresay we all prefer the Ally who doesn't believe in locked doors."

Jamie smiled, finding all the reassurance he'd needed from his dad's words.

"Erin mentioned that we might like to add a chair on Sunday." His father said suddenly, raising an eyebrow. "I wouldn't object, you know, if that were true."

"I get it dad," Jamie rolled his eyes. "We're not there yet."

"Of course – just something to keep in mind."

"I'm interrupting."

Frank Reagan raised an eyebrow at the woman standing in his doorway. "I do believe that door was locked." He pointed out, and she shrugged.

"I don't believe in locks as a rule," was the woman's dismissive reply, and Jamie jumped up in surprise. The woman shot Jamie an unreadable look and then focused on Frank again. "I thought it was time I introduced myself: Gen Barnes." She nodded stiffly at Frank, then switched her focus to Jamie.

Jamie might not have noticed, but Frank was more than aware of the softening in her gaze, though her voice remained stern.

"Someone promised to bear witness to what I'm certain is going to be the most awkward family dinner in history."

Jamie's eyes widened. "Right!" He turned to his dad. "I'll see you tomorrow," he promised and Reagan nodded.

"Perhaps," Reagan's mouth twitched under his bushy mustache. "If you survive the evening, you'd might be interested in seeing how the Irish do family dinners?"

Barnes, the Ally, the former JJ, the current Gen, widened her eyes slightly in surprise.

"I didn't realize we were that serious, Reagan?" She teased, and Jamie flushed.

"He's just trying to embarrass me," Jamie mumbled.

"The job of a father never ends," Frank admitted.

"Well I guess I'll find out," Gen said dryly. "You ready, Reagan?"

"No." Jamie answered immediately. "Let's go."

He was out the door so quickly that Frank blinked in surprise.

"Reagan," She dismissed.

"Stop by anytime," Frank called out with a small smirk.

All the response he got was a low chuckle and a "Nice try."

Frank shook his head, looked at the form that listed potential recruits to the new division, and firmly wrote at the top of the page

JJ Barnes.

After a second, he crossed something out, and wrote again.

Gen Barnes.

Then he nodded and closed the file.

* * *

 **Keep an eye out for a new chapter up next wednesday!**

 **Review/Follow/Favorite?**

 **~CLC~**


End file.
